


One Little White Lie

by laughter_now



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughter_now/pseuds/laughter_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One little white lie never hurt anybody, that's what they say. But apparently they are wrong, because even one small lie can spin out of control and change a life forever. Jim only wanted to be by his best friend's side after an accident. Nobody could have known that the lie he told to make that possible was going to come back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything associated with the Star Trek franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Written in response to a prompt at Space Married.  
> First posted on December 10th, 2009.

**One Little White Lie  
  
Chapter 1**  
  
  
It all happened so fucking fast.  
  
One moment Jim and Spock had been stuck in pleasant yet slightly boring negotiations with Rash'Tar, leader of the people on Nibilia II, about the mutual benefits of the Nibilians joining the Federation. Jim was even slightly envious of the other members of the landing party who were granted tours of the various facilities on the planet's surface while he was stuck doing the Captain-thing.  
  
Then the door had burst open and an aide had come running into Rash'Tar's office, hurrying over to the High Senator to whisper urgently into his ear.  
  
Jim had known then that something had happened.  
  
Even as Rash'Tar's eyes widened as he listened, as the scaly ridge of his forehead lifted in surprise and shock, he had known.  
  
He had been sure when Rash'Tar had looked at him while the aide was still whispering away urgently. It didn't need any premonition or emphatic abilities to know something unplanned had happened. Something bad. Really bad.  
  
"What's wrong?" Jim forced out as soon as the aide had finished speaking and started to withdraw respectfully, back never turned to the senator as was custom in the Nibilian society.  
  
Rash'Tar put his scaled blue hands onto the desk and pushed himself into a standing position.  
  
"An accident. Please come."  
  
That was all the senator had to say on the matter, and all that was left for Jim and Spock to do was to follow.  
  
They managed to get some more details about what had happened on their way to the big hospital complex in the city center. There had been a shuttle malfunction, and one of the Nibilian transports carrying his crewmembers had crashed. But no matter who he asked, no matter how much Jim pressed for information, all the senator knew was that one of Jim's men had been injured and was being treated at the hospital while the others involved in the crash had escaped with minor cuts and bruises. That, and the fact that the shuttle that had crashed had been the one headed towards a science facility outside of the city.  
  
Chekov.  
  
Chapel.  
  
Bones.  
  
Those were the crewmembers who had been on that transport, and Jim felt sick at the thought of any of them being injured. Spock sat silently in his seat during those news, and while Jim knew better than to expect a different reaction from his First Officer, it was still unnerving.  
  
The transport to the hospital took forever, and once they reached the building it was all Jim could do not to run into the building and down the corridors until he found his people. Instead he stayed back, walking behind Senator Rash'Tar as the man strode through the entry hall. Jim was barely aware of all the other Nibilians bowing respectfully as their leader passed, the nursing staff lifting their veils in respect at the sight of their leader. He didn't care about proper cultural protocol right now. He needed to find out what the hell had happened, and who had been hurt.  
  
Rash'Tar didn't have to ask for directions, a Nibilian in the green garb of the healers immediately started leading them down the hallways, shifting sideways so to never present his back to the senator which would have been an act of disrespect. Jim barely paid him any mind. All he had eyes for were signs of humans amongst the Nibilians, a flash of gold or blue that would tell him his people were all right. And of course he was worried about all of them. He cared about all of them, and didn't want to see any of them get hurt. But Bones was…it was Bones, and no matter that Jim was supposed to be impartial as far as his crew was concerned, Bones was always going to be his best friend. That was something that went far beyond their roles aboard.  
  
So yes, he had to make sure that all his people were all right. But he had the damn right to be that tiny bit more worried about his best friend and not feel bad about it, hadn't he?  
  
Jim saw Chekov first.  
  
The young ensign was standing in the corridor ahead of them, engaged in a lively discussion with a Nibilian healer. Chekov's shirt was torn at his upper arm, it was stained with grease and soot, and there was some blood on his shirt around the tear, but other than that and a copious amount of dirt spread liberally over the young man's skin, he seemed to be all right.  
  
Jim's eyes wandered, and his heart gave a funny lurch in his chest as he caught a glimpse of a science blue shirt. It was just a second of relief though before his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing. Blue shirt, but not Bones. Blond hair, female figure, petite stature – it was Chapel. She looked similarly disheveled as Chekov was, minus the blood on her shirt but with some added abrasions on her cheek, but seemed fine otherwise.  
  
Which meant Bones was hurt.  
  
Jim's heart crashed down pretty much the same way the shuttle must have.  
  
Bones was hurt, and without any thought about what interstellar protocol he was breaking, Jim was rushing forward to where Chekov and Chapel were.  
  
"Chekov, what happened?" And, because he was still the Captain and even underneath all that ugly worry about what had happened to Bones, he had to know. "Are you two all right?"  
  
"Keptin!" Chekov seemed almost ridiculously relieved to see him. "I do not know exactly what happened. There was a technical malfunction, apparently. The transport went down after the pilot initiated the landing sequence, probably a computer glitch, or an overload in the electrical system. Nurse Chapel and me suffered no serious harm, but Doctor McCoy was injured. I've been trying to get more information, but…"  
  
"They won't let us see him," Chapel interrupted. "I told them that I'm a certified nurse and well acquainted with the Doctor's medical history, but they refuse to let me see how he is. Some sort of cultural norm, if I understand correctly."  
  
Jim turned towards Rash'Tar, eyes ablaze and his heart beating wildly in his chest.  
  
"Why are we not allowed to see Doctor McCoy?"  
  
The Senator seemed a little taken aback at the strength of Jim's outburst, but he inclined his bald head to the side in a gesture of regret.  
  
"We do mean no offence, Captain, and believe me that I am truly sorry about this incident and will investigate its causes with great scrutiny. But we have strict rules about this. Sickbed is a very vulnerable situation for our species. When ill, we are absolutely vulnerable and defenseless. It might seem like an outdated custom to you, but we only permit the closest relatives to be at our side during that time of weakness. We cannot break those rules easily. Only immediate family and spouses are permitted to visit the sick."  
  
Jim didn't even have to think before he said his next words. If he had, he might have spent some more thoughts on the possible implications. But not even he could have predicted just how far this thing was going to go, and in this moment he didn't care. Bones was hurt, Chekov was terrified, Chapel was angry, and damn it, this was Bones. Bones who was afraid of brutal, violent death any time he stepped onto a shuttle. He was Jim's best friend, and right now Jim didn't give a damn about cultural norms and whether or not the Nibilians didn't trust their own friends enough to let them visit their sickbed. He was going to see Bones, and there was a very easy way to achieve that particular goal.  
  
"Well, that's great. Doctor McCoy is my husband, and I respectfully ask that you let me go in and see him immediately."  
  
Jim didn't look at Chekov or Chapel as he said those words. He was too afraid their reactions were going to give him away, or that he would reveal his lie if he looked at them. So he kept his gaze firmly focused on Rash'Tar, but over the High Senator's shoulder he did notice how Spock's eyebrow rose slightly at his words.  
  
Rash'Tar cocked his head slightly.  
  
"I was not aware that you and the healer of your crew were bound in such a way."  
  
Jim swallowed hard against the sudden dryness of his throat, unwilling to lie to someone who could be a valuable ally to the Federation, but even more unwilling to leave his injured best friend in the hands of strangers.  
  
"And I was not aware that it was a matter of importance for our negotiations."  
  
Rash'Tar nodded once, the Nibilian gesture of accepting someone else's point. "Of course."  
  
The High Senator's next move surprised Jim. He stepped forward with an agility that belied his apparent age and pressed a hand to Jim's forehead. The movement was quick and unexpected, yet not something Jim felt threatened by. Surprised, yeah. _Definitely_ surprised. The scaly palm was warm against his forehead, and the moment Rash'Tar touched him, a small tingle started in the back of his head and at the base of his spine. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, but not comfortable either, and just as Jim was about to draw his head back, Rash'Tar withdrew his hand again. He looked at Jim for a second longer, then stepped aside with a small bow.  
  
"Of course," he repeated. "The healers will show you the way, and they will tell you everything about your husband's condition. Since you will undoubtedly want to be staying with your spouse, we can continue our negotiations at a time when he is feeling better. Again, I am deeply regretful that this incident will tarnish the first impression you have of our planet, and I wish Doctor McCoy a speedy recovery."  
  
Jim was too surprised and baffled to wonder about this sudden turn of events. He hadn't expected his little white lie to go over this smoothly, but right now was not the moment to question it.  
"Thank you, High Senator." Jim turned towards Spock. "Spock, take Chekov and Chapel back to the ship. I'll be in touch as soon as I know more."  
  
Spock nodded, and in the knowledge that everything official was taken care of, Jim turned around and followed the green-robed healer through a door and down another corridor. Bones was going to give him hell for this, Jim knew that. As soon as his friend was awake again and got to know about this charade, Jim would never hear the end of it. Especially since Bones was going to have to play along. Oh, Jim was going to pay dearly for this, he already knew that. But that was okay, as long as he got to visit Bones and see with his own eyes that friend was going to be all right.  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Broken left arm.  
  
Two broken ribs on the left side.  
  
Severe concussion.  
  
Laceration to the left side of his head, due to the impact with the shuttle wall at high velocity.  
  
All in all, it could have been a lot worse, even if the list the Nibilian healer rattled down – in layman's terms for Jim's benefit – sounded awful. The only reason why it wasn't much worse was that Bones had been strapped tightly into his safety harness. Bones' life wasn't in acute danger, even if his injuries weren't minor, but still it was hard to hear them rattled down like that. Bones wasn't supposed to get hurt. He was the one who fixed injured people. The thought that it was different now was hard to bear for Jim.  
  
Apparently, Bones had been sitting in a seat on the left side of the shuttle, the side that had taken the brunt of the impact during the crash. Chapel and Chekov had both been on the right side of the small craft, that was why they had fared so much better.  
  
It might look bad now, but Bones was going to be all right, and rather quickly at that. Jim had made the healer repeat that particular reassurance twice, just to make sure he had understood correctly. Already, the broken ribs and the fracture in Bones' arm had been treated with an Osteo-regenerator, and the cut on the side of his head had been healed, even if the new skin still looked pink and to Jim's eyes seemed too thin and vulnerable to hold his head together.  
  
Bones was pale, and much too still on the hospital bed as Jim approached. A startling number of monitors were recording Bones' bodily functions, and Jim was glad for the chair that had been pulled up beside the bed as his knees started to feel suspiciously weak as he approached his best friend.  
  
A distant part of his brain was aware that the Nibilian healer was still present, and that he was supposed to play the part of the worried husband, but right now Jim didn't have the capacities left to be anything but the concerned best friend. Because no matter how often he was told that Bones was going to be just fine, he was only going to believe it once those hazel eyes opened and Jim could convince himself of that fact by himself. Only then.  
  
So he didn't have to act as he sank down onto the chair with a slightly shaky sigh and immediately reached for Bones' hand.  
  
They weren't like that. They weren't touchers. The physical quality of their friendship consisted of pats on the back and bumps with the shoulder, and the occasional instance when one of them abused the other as a pillow after an evening of too much bourbon and too many drowned sorrows. But Bones was going to be absolutely pissed at Jim for the whole lie about them being married anyway, he might as well freak out about the hand-holding. Right now, Jim needed the reassurance that Bones' skin was still warm under his touch. If his skin was still warm, then Bones was only sleeping.  
  
According to the healers, he was, and it was unlikely that he was going to wake up before the following morning. But it was just as unlikely that Jim was going to move from this bedside until that happened, either. He had time, and it wasn't as if he'd be able to sleep even if he beamed back to Enterprise. He might as well stay here; it was what the Nibilians expected of him, anyway. Apparently, this was what worried husbands did, never mind the fact that worried best friends did the exact same thing.  
  
The night stretched endlessly.  
  
Once or twice Jim dozed off, only to be woken by the sound of a healer or one of the nurses coming in the room to check up on Bones. Jim had called Enterprise and informed them of Bones' condition as soon as the first shock of seeing his best friend so still and silent in the hospital bed had abated, and after that Jim didn't leave the room just once during the night. Bones slept on, much like he probably would have even without Jim's presence, but that was just as well. Jim's intention for coming here had never been because Bones needed him. He was the one who was still conscious, and he was here because right now _he_ needed to be with Bones, so it didn't really matter whether or not Bones was aware of his presence.  
  
Nibilia's twin suns started to rise a little after five in the morning planet-time, and half an hour later a nurse and a healer came in for a thorough morning checkup for which they respectfully asked Jim to vacate his chair at Bones' bedside, even if they allowed him to stay in the same room. Bones would have an ulcer at the thought of a doctor allowing an audience around for an examination, but here on Nibilia they had a much more all-encompassing concept of what a spousal bond was. It wasn't just a legal formality to the Nibilians, but something Nibilia, so there wasn't any question about whether or not a spouse was allowed to witness a physician's examination, either.  
  
Jim stepped back from the bed, with far more reluctance than he had thought possible, and watched as the doctor started scanning Bones' head. The examination as such was pretty unrevealing to Jim, who had no real medical knowledge outside of the things he had already experienced himself. But he was glad he stayed, nevertheless. Not only because he had to keep up the pretence of being Bones' husband. No, but if he had left, he would have missed the moment Bones opened his eyes.  
  
The doctors had been right. Of course they had been. Bones' injuries hadn't been severe enough to warrant any real worry about his life, but nevertheless Jim was surprised at just how incredibly relieved he felt when those hazel eyes tiredly blinked open. He tried to step closer towards the bed and into Bones' line of vision as soon as he noticed that the other man was waking up. Bones was bound to be confused, and waking up to two green-robed, blue-scaled creatures looking down at you probably wasn't the most comforting sight for any human.  
But before Jim could even get to Bones' bedside, the heart monitor above the bed began to beep in alarm. Jim looked at it, as if the device could tell him anything beyond the fact that Bones' heart rate was elevated. But when Jim looked down at the bed again, Bones' eyes were wide and he was looking at the Nibilian healers in obvious confusion. Confusion and, Jim noticed with a sinking feeling, fear.  
  
"Bones!"  
  
Jim took another step closer, and the healer immediately let him pass through to Bones' bedside. At the sound of his voice, Bones' eyes had turned towards Jim and tracked his progress towards his bedside.  
  
"Bones, it's okay. They're doctors. You've been in an accident, but you're going to be okay. Just let them take a look at you, all right?"  
  
Bones' expression did not change, just as if Jim was speaking a language he had never heard before, and for a moment Jim was inattentive. If he had watched closely, he might have seen the signs. But he was too relieved to see that his friend's eyes were open to take notice of the small things, like the wide-eyed stare that was all-too similar to that of a frightened animal, or the way he tried to shift away from Jim as he approached.  
  
But Jim didn't notice those signs, so when he stretched out his hands in order to put them on Bones' shoulders and Bones flinched away as if Jim had just threatened him with a phaser, Jim was genuinely surprised.  
  
"Bones, what's wrong?"  
  
Bones was shaking his head, still shifting away from Jim on the bed, and his eyes were wide with surprise and again that horrible undertone of fear.  
  
"What happened? Where am I? Who are you people?"  
  
Jim didn't understand. He had answered those questions just a few seconds ago. But Bones was concussed, and he had just woken up, so maybe it was going to take a little reminder.  
  
"You were in a shuttle crash, and now you're in the hospital. We're on Nibilia II, remember? And these two are Nibilian healers, they want to examine you again."  
  
Bones looked at Jim for a long moment, then he turned his eyes to the two Nibilians, carefully examining their blue scales, bald heads, and pleasant smiles. When he looked back at Jim, some of the earlier panic had vanished from his gaze, but the confusion was still there, strong as ever, even if it was nearly overshadowed by newfound determination.  
  
"And who the hell are you?"  
  
Jim's heart did a funny lurch in his chest before it decided to take a swan-dive to somewhere in the vicinity of his knees.  
  
"What?" He asked in a voice he didn't recognize as his own.  
  
Bones looked around the room again as if trying to figure out if all this was real or just a bad dream.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Jim felt like he couldn't breathe.  
  
"What do you mean, _who am I_? I'm Jim."  
  
"Jim?"  
  
There were steps beside him, but through the haze Jim barely noticed how the Nibilian healer pushed past him to Bones' bedside.   
  
"You don't remember your spouse?"  
  
Bones' eyes narrowed at the healer's words.  
  
"My _spouse_?"  
  
Jim bit his lip to hold back a curse, but he couldn't escape Bones' gaze as it was leveled on him.  
  
"What…we're _married_?"  
  
Great. Just fucking great. If the healer hadn't brought it up, there might have been a way out of this, but now…  
  
Jim drew a deep breath and tried to put on his most reassuring smile. Judged by the way some of the panic returned to Bones' face, it hadn't really worked.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!  
  
The fact that Bones didn't remember who Jim was seemed to agitate the Nibilian healer, and he immediately began questioning Bones while scanning him at the same time. Inwardly, Jim was cheering Bones on, keeping his fingers crossed that this was all just a moment of momentary confusion and nothing else. But with every question Bones failed to answer, Jim felt his own heart sink a little more. Name, age, stardate, place of birth, parents' names, occupation – Bones didn't know the answer to any of these questions. And with each answer he failed to give, Bones grew increasingly agitated, shifting uncomfortably on the bed, unwilling to meet anybody's eyes. There was a slight flush to his cheeks now, but Jim was unable to tell whether it was from embarrassment or his rising frustration.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the healer had come to a conclusion. So had Jim, although his conclusions were of a more general nature – doctors didn't make good patients, Bones wasn't the most patient of all people on a good day, and today _definitely_ wasn't one of the good days.  
  
The healer's conclusions were much more sobering.  
  
 _Retrograde amnesia._  
  
Amidst all the attempted explanations, the recounting of symptoms and the reassurances that none of the readings suggested that Bones' condition was permanent, the results were the same.  
  
Bones didn't remember who he was.  
  
He had no clue about his own name, his job, or even his age.  
  
He didn't remember anything about himself, and he had no clue who Jim was, either.  
  
But thanks to one over-zealous Nibilian healer, there was one thing Bones thought he knew for a fact: that he was married to Jim.  
  
This was bad. This was absolutely, positively and irrevocably screwed up. And once the truth came out, Jim was _dead_.  
  
Fuck.  
  
He was so screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**  
  
"Of all the things you could have done, Captain, that was by far the worst!"  
  
Geoffrey M'Benga normally was the epitome of calm. Normally. Normally he wasn't repeatedly pushing his hair back in frustration, and normally, his dark skin wasn't flushed in barely concealed frustration. Apparently, today was not one of those normal days, because right now the doctor seemed…agitated. And that was putting it mildly.  
  
"It's not exactly like I knew he was going to wake up without his memory!"  
  
Jim didn't like how petulant he sounded. He was still the Captain, and while it admittedly hadn't been his brightest idea to tell the Nibilians that he and Bones were married, it wasn't like he had been able to predict that something like this was going to happen. He had only wanted to be with Bones and make sure that he was all right, nothing else. He couldn't have know that this was going to blow out of proportion like this.  
  
M'Benga sighed and raised his hands in a gesture of defeat before he let them drop to the conference room table.  
  
"Be that as it may, we have to think about what to do now, Captain."  
  
Jim nodded. He knew. Of course he knew that. It had only been about five hours since Bones had woken up, but already the Nibilians were ready to release Bones from the hospital, and in two hours he was going to be transported back to Enterprise. So they had to figure out where to go from here. Jim simply didn't know what to do, even though right now everybody was looking at him for a suggestion or even a decision, and not only because he was the Captain. But just because he was Bones friend didn't mean that he had any more idea what to do than anybody else in the room.  
  
And there were plenty of people in the room with him. Aside from M'Benga and Chekov and Chapel as the ones who had been at the Nibilian hospital, all other Senior Officers were present. It wasn't as if they'd be able to keep something as big as Bones' amnesia a secret from them. Besides, Jim trusted these people, and he trusted them not to judge him too harshly once they heard about his lie to the Nibilian leader. He didn't exactly want to spread the story for the entire ship's crew to hear, but secretly Jim had hoped that with all those geniuses in one room, someone was going to come up with a brilliant idea on how to go on from here.  
  
Right now however, they were all looking at him as if Jim had the answers to all Bones-related questions. With a tired sigh, Jim pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger.  
  
"Then let's just tell him the truth. Amnesia or not, Bones is a rational guy when it comes down to it. If I explain to him that telling the Nibilians he was my husband was the only way they let me in to see him, he'll understand. And once that's out of the way, we can see about what to do to get his memory back."  
  
Jim tried not to look too hopeful as he cast his eyes around the assembled faces. Nobody seemed excited at that idea though, and the frown on M'Benga's face deepened impossibly.  
  
"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"  
  
Jim waved his hand at him almost absent-mindedly. It wasn't as if the doctor had held anything back during his earlier rants.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"If we were talking about Leonard McCoy under any other circumstances, of course that would be the right choice. He'd understand your reasons and would eventually agree, even if I'd be hearing for days on end exactly how many kinds of an idiot you are. But the thing is Captain, we're _not_ talking about Leonard as he normally is. Right now, he doesn't know a damn thing about himself. He doesn't remember anything about his own life. Now, I don't know if you can imagine what that has to feel like, but let me tell you that most amnesic patients are pretty damn _terrified_ by that. They try to remember, but there's nothing there. Right now he doesn't have his usual frame of reference for anything. And like it or not Captain, you were the first anchor in all that emptiness and confusion."  
  
Jim's mind was reeling as he tried to take all that in, tried to imagine what it had to feel like not to have a single memory of your own life. It was hard for him to imagine that Bones was terrified, really terrified about something, and he had seemed more confused than frightened during those moments in the hospital, but Jim was simply unable to really imagine what it had to feel like. He didn't want for Bones to feel lost and disconnected, and he wanted nothing more than to help his friend, but he had no idea how to do that.  
  
"Me?"  
  
M'Benga nodded. "Yes, you. You were the first one he met who knew something about the life he has forgotten about, and if there's one thing he needs right now, it's stability. He desperately needs invariables in his life because he has no precedents to judge by, no idea how to react to anything. With his memory intact, Leonard knows what it means when he catches you in a lie. He knows the difference between a small lie and what constitutes a breach of trust in your friendship. Right now, he doesn't have any of that, which means that every small lie is a break of trust. Leonard knows he's supposed to trust you because he's being told he did before he lost his memory, but he has nothing to base that trust on. If you tell him that the first thing he got to know about his life was a lie, you're going to pull the floor right out from under his feet. If we do that, he won't know who or what to believe in anymore. Probably, he's not going to believe any of us another word."  
  
Something dreadful was settling in Jim's stomach.  
  
"So you're saying we're going to have to keep this up?"  
  
M'Benga shrugged. "I'm not saying I like it. But right now, every other way I see might do him even more harm. There is no medical way to treat amnesia, Captain. The only thing that can be done is to settle the patient back into their normal life and hope that something triggers some sort of memory. So I suggest that's what we do. And since he thinks the two of you are married…well," he shrugged, but didn't seem too regretful about his next words. "I guess congratulations are in order, Sir. Seems you're a married man now."  
  
"Hold on a second…"  
  
"Captain," Spock interrupted his previous silence. "Dr. M'Benga's assessment of Doctor McCoy's condition seems sound. If it is his medical expertise to not let him suffer the pressure of knowing the truth, then I suggest we think about which preparations we need to consider before Doctor McCoy comes back aboard."  
  
"Wait, wait, wait!" Jim raised his hand as if that could physically stop everything else in the room. "So what you're suggesting is that we keep _lying_ to Bones? Because if that's what you do, I've got to tell you that as soon as he's got his memory back, he's going to go ballistic about it. And I'm not talking about his normal levels of grumpiness, I'm talking about an epic freak-out."  
  
Again, M'Benga only shrugged. "That might be the case, but we have to rely on the thought that once he regains his memory, he'll also be able to understand the medical reasons as to why we kept up the lie. That's not to say he's not going to be furious about it. But I think compared to the possibility of him withdrawing completely into himself right now, it's a chance we have to take."  
  
Jim ran a hand over his face with a deep sigh. This was far worse than anything he had imagined previous to that meeting. Their genius rate aboard Enterprise was much higher that on any other Federation starship, but it seemed nobody was able to come up with a solution to this problem. Well, no other solution but to pretend married life for Bones' sake, which admittedly didn't sound like a good idea at all to Jim.  
  
But really, in the end it all came down to one question.  
  
"Will it help Bones? If I keep pretending that we're married, is that going to help him in any way?"  
  
M'Benga seemed uncomfortable answering this question  
  
"It's not going to do him any harm, which telling the truth, at least in the short term, definitely would. Of course it's also not actively going to help bring his memory back, but it's one of the few things Leonard thinks he knows about his life right now. It's going to give him a sense of stability, and that's the most important thing an amnesiac patient needs. Stability and normalcy."  
  
Jim knew this was going to come back to haunt him. He just knew it. It screamed _bad idea_ in glaring neon-colored letters, but really – what other choice was there? None. Absolutely none at all. There was only one thing to do. Jim drew a deep breath and nodded at M'Benga.  
  
"Okay. Then we're going to do it."  
  
Jim felt like he had just announced someone's death verdict and not decided on a plan on how to help their crewmate and friend. He would have gladly done something else, something better and more honest to help Bones, but it seemed that all amount of willpower wasn't enough to make it happen.  
  
Jim was good at adapting. He was going to go with this plan, and even if it was crappy, he was going to make the best of it for Bones' sake. If that meant he had to pretend to be married to him for a little while, Jim was going to do it. As long as it helped Bones, he would do things a lot worse than that.  
  
"What else can we do?"  
  
"I'm afraid there's not much else that can be done. We will settle Leonard back into his normal life and ordinary routines as much as possible. I will examine him thoroughly once he's back aboard, but in my estimation nothing should speak against putting him back on light duty as soon as tomorrow, and regular duty a day or two after that, as soon as he's a little more comfortable with the daily routines."  
  
Jim saw Spock raise an eyebrow with sharp precision.  
  
"You are suggesting to put Doctor McCoy back on duty, Doctor?"  
  
M'Benga nodded. "I'm advising it, yes. Regular routines are more likely to trigger the memories to come back than anything else. Of course I still need to examine him, but in most cases the amnesia affects the personal memories, not the professional capacities. It is unlikely that Leonard has forgotten any of his medical knowledge."  
  
Spock inclined his head in a half-nod as he accepted M'Benga's point.  
  
"Of course, if that is your professional assessment. However, I would suggest that we revoke Doctor McCoy's status as CMO until he regains his memory. There is security protocol and access to sensitive information to consider, and in accordance with Starfleet Regulation it would be unwise to let the Doctor act as CMO if it isn't guaranteed that he cannot fill that position to the best of his knowledge."  
  
It felt too much like a demotion, but Jim knew it was the only choice. The CMO had to know security protocols and regulations by heart, and he was privy to a number of classified protocols. More than that, he needed to know them so instinctively that in case of an emergency he'd react immediately and without much conscious thought. Bones could not be CMO until he remembered. He nodded with a sigh.  
  
"Doctor M'Benga, you will acting CMO until further notice, and until Doctor McCoy by your professional assessment is able to fill that position again."  
  
Normally such an order was a difficult one, putting the decision of demoting himself and promoting Bones again into M'Benga's own hands. But Jim wasn't too worried about any struggles in the hierarchy of his medical team. The positions were secure, and Jim didn't worry about M'Benga angling for the position of CMO on a permanent basis. There was too much respect and also camaraderie between the two men for that to happen, and once Bones was ready to reclaim his position, M'Benga would honestly admit to it and step down again.  
  
So this wasn't anything Jim needed to worry about, and that was good, because the list of things he needed to worry about was already long enough.  
  
"What do we have to take care of before Bones comes back aboard?"  
  
M'Benga pulled out a PADD and looked at it for a moment, as if he was going through a list he had written down prior to this meeting.  
  
"The most important thing is that we need to move Leonard into your quarters, Captain."  
  
He really should have expected that. It shouldn't have come totally out of the blue, but still Jim couldn't help but feel surprised.  
  
"What?"  
  
The doctor only shrugged. "Well, he's hardly going to believe that you are married if you're living in separate quarters. We will have to move his clothes and personal effects into your quarters."  
  
It made sense, but damn it, it had just been a little white lie, and now they were going to have to turn both their lives upside down because of it? That didn't sound like settling Bones into his _normal_ routines, because his _normal_ routines involved his own damn quarters to go home to at night. Just the thought of taking all his personal things and moving them into Jim's quarters made his stomach churn, for the breach of privacy that it was and not because he didn't want Bones around.  
  
Still. This was going to be awkward.  
  
"All right, what else?"  
  
M'Benga shook his head. "Nothing that needs to be done, as such. But for the time being your priority should be Leonard, Captain. As I said, right now you're his attachment figure, which means you need to be around in order for Leonard to develop a sense of security around here at first. Once he gets more comfortable on his own we can reduce that, but right now it is my suggestion that you stay around or available to Leonard for as much as you can."  
  
"Are you trying to take me off duty?"  
  
M'Benga shook his head. "No, but I'm strongly advising light duty while Leonard gets settled aboard. If an emergency on the bridge requires your presence, that is one thing, but I suggest that you turn over as many of your regular duties as possible to Commander Spock for the time being."  
  
If it had been about anybody but Bones, Jim would have called it babysitting duty. He didn't mind dropping his duties if it was for Bones, but they were in the middle of important negotiations, and some of the higher-ups at Starfleet were still watching all of Enterprise's movements with close scrutiny, with a still deep-rooted suspicion of the young crew and especially its young Captain.  
  
"What about the negotiations?"  
  
Spock folded his hands on the table with careful precision.  
  
"Considering the Nibilians' value of family, I am convinced that Rash'Tar is going to understand if you stay with Doctor McCoy upon medical suggestion. If the High Senator agrees to continue the negotiations with me in your stead, we won't have to postpone any of the scheduled arrangements."  
  
Jim pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "All right. Anything else?"  
  
"Maybe, Keptin."  
  
Jim looked up, surprised at Chekov's timid interjection. "What is it?"  
  
"Doctor McCoy, what if he looks at his personal file to get more information about himself? We have to pretend that he is married to you, but his file states that he isn't, no?"  
  
Jim hadn't even thought that far. He was glad that someone else had picked up the slack, but he should have seen that problem himself. Now they were going to have to falsify official documents as well in order to keep up this charade. The ripples of it were growing wider and wider, and deep down Jim simply knew that this couldn't end well. No way.  
  
"Good thinking, Ensign. I will make the adjustments to the personnel files myself, and I bear full responsibility if Starfleet finds out about it. For now, if nobody has anything to add, we should get started on Bones' quarters."  
  
And didn't he just hate the mere thought of going through Bones' personal stuff without his friend's knowledge or consent. But they had made a decision, and now they were going to have to bear the consequences.  
  
Just how little of an idea he had about all the complications that came along with married life – pretend or otherwise – he realized when Uhura broke her silence.  
  
"What about rings? I'm sure Doctor McCoy is going to notice soon that neither of you is wearing a wedding ring."  
  
Jim suppressed the urge to drop his head to the conference room table with a loud groan. Rings. This was…god, this was just getting worse and worse.  
  
"Great. I don't assume anybody has a pair of unused wedding rings lying around?"  
  
"Aye, I guess I can whip something up," Scotty replied calmly with a shrug of his shoulders. "There's some latinum alloys we use, or I can scrounge up some platinum from Engineering parts. Shouldnae be a problem to get it done till the doctor comes aboard. You want anything engraved?"  
  
Jim thought he hadn't heard right. "What? No!" He replied at the same time as Uhura's determined voice rang out.  
  
"Their names on the inside. Real first names, no nicknames. No date."  
  
Jim wondered when exactly this conversation had slid out of his hands, because Scotty nodded immediately, jotting down Uhura's instructions instead of his own.  
  
"Right. I'll get it done right away."  
  
Jim sighed in defeat.  
  
"Is there anything else we've been missing? Any other instructions?"  
  
"We need to inform the crew," M'Benga spoke up again. "Not about the details, but they need to be notified that Leonard is suffering from amnesia, and how they're supposed to deal with that. Everyone needs to interact with him just like they ordinarily would, and that includes every single member of the crew, but most of all those who will be interacting with him on a daily basis. Do not lie to him, and answer his questions truthfully. If you don't know what to say, tell him that, refer him back to me, or the Captain. But other than the question of his marital status, do not lie to him. Things will only get worse if you do. From my side that's all, but I will keep you informed in case something else comes up after I examine him."  
  
"Good. Then let's get to work. I'll need a few volunteers for moving Bones' things to my quarters."  
  
"I'll help," Chapel immediately replied, and Uhura joined her with a vigorous nod of her head. Chapel knew Bones, and Uhura was good friends with him. If he already had to root around in his best friend's most private things, at least he got to do it with two of the most discreet crewmembers aboard.  
  
"All right. Meet me at his quarters in ten minutes. When is Bones' transport scheduled?"  
  
"At 14:00 ship time, and I want you in the transporter room when he arrives, Captain. Between examining him, giving him an overview over his treatment and a tour of the facilities to see how much he actually remembers about being a doctor aboard a starship, I can probably keep him in Medical until 18:00, till the end of beta shift at the latest. You don't need to be present for all of it, but once I release him you'd better have all preparations finished."  
  
Jim nodded, his only thought to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Bones was going to settle and get his memory back soon, then this whole charade was going to be over. They wouldn't be able to keep this up for long, and the thought about lying to his friend for any longer than absolutely necessary made an uncomfortable feeling settle in the pit of Jim's stomach.  
  
"Then we better get to work."  
  
Chairs scratched over the floor as all assembled crewmembers got up and began to file out of the room. Scotty had a gleam in his eyes that was doing nothing for Jim's comfort levels, and he could only hope and pray that his Chief Engineer wasn't going to go overboard with the whole wedding-ring thing. But there was another thing that worried him even more, and that was Spock. His First Officer had been uncharacteristically silent during most of the meeting, and Jim had the distinct feeling that Spock was holding something back.  
  
"Commander, a word please."  
  
Spock stopped on his way to the door and with his hands held behind his back waited patiently until the remaining Senior Officers had left the room. When the door swished shut behind them, he turned towards Jim and raised his eyebrow.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"Is there anything you want to tell me?"  
  
The second eyebrow joined the first high on Spock's forehead.  
  
"I'm afraid I cannot follow, Captain."  
  
"You barely said a word during the meeting. I had thought I was in for a lecture of epic proportions about how my rash and impulsive behavior got us into this mess in the first place. Now we all have to lie, and I know that the Vulcan inside of you is cringing at the mere thought of that."  
  
Spock regarded Jim for a moment before he spoke again.  
  
"While admittedly asking the Nibilians for details about Doctor McCoy's condition is a request that surely would not have been denied, and would have given us the reassurance that his injuries weren't life-threatening without the need to lie about your marital status, it was not something I was in any position to stop once you went ahead and told the High Senator you were married to the Doctor."  
  
"And still you didn't give me any grief about it until now. And I lied to the representative of a species who we want to join the Federation. I'm fairly sure that's against regulation."  
  
Jim thought he might have just imagined it, but for a second he could have sworn that Spock seemed uncomfortable.  
  
"As a matter of fact, Captain, you did not lie to the High Senator."  
  
Jim was fairly sure that his own eyebrows were doing a poor imitation of the art Spock had perfected.  
  
"What? I told them I was married to Bones when I'm not, that's pretty much the definition of a lie."  
  
"Not in the eyes of the Nibilians."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"If you read the mission briefing…"  
  
"Of course I read the damn thing!" Jim interrupted angrily. "I actually _do_ know what my job implies."  
  
Spock inclined his head. "I did not mean to suggest otherwise. But since you read the report, then surely you remember that the Nibilians are empaths. Of more precisely, touch telepaths."  
  
"Like Vulcans," Jim mumbled, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.  
  
"In a way. The underlying concept appears to be the same, yet the abilities take different forms in different species. Vulcans need to meld in order to enter someone else's mind completely. Nibilians require much less focus and procedure."  
  
Jim remembered the feeling of a dry, scaly palm against his forehead and the subsequent tingle in the back of his had and at the base of his spine. Back then he had been too worried about Bones to notice, but now he asked himself how he could have missed it.  
  
"Rash'Tar read my mind."  
  
And what was it with people forcing themselves into his mind without permission, anyway? Wasn't there some sort of protocol for that kind of thing that people were supposed to stick to? It wasn't polite, and it was a breach of privacy, for crying out loud.  
  
"I do not think he read your mind as such. Rather, he was searching for confirmation of what you told him."  
  
Jim shook his head. "But I lied. I'm not married to Bones. He should have seen that."  
  
"I have yet to study all the data that the Nibilians transferred to us. But it would be a mistake to compare their concept of marriage with that of humans. To the Nibilians marriage is less of a legal status and more of a state of mind. An emotional bond, if you so will. And apparently, Rash'Tar found that when he searched your mind, otherwise he could not have allowed you to Doctor McCoy's bedside."  
  
Jim didn't understand, or maybe he didn't _want_ to understand what his First Officer was telling him.  
  
"So they mistook friendship for love?"  
  
Spock looked at Jim for a long moment, and when he spoke his voice was low but determined.  
  
"I do not think that anything about the Nibilian concept of marriage equals the human understanding of friendship, Jim."  
  
It was the unexpected use of his first name that threw Jim off for a second, that kept him from hearing what Spock was actually saying. And really, he had no idea what to say in response to those words.  
  
Bones was his friend, nothing more, but also nothing less. The best friend Jim had ever had. Of course there was love involved there. One couldn't be this close to someone for over five years and not love them. But…this wasn't a romantic notion, not in any way. It was the kind of love that came with trust and friendship, not the kind of love that was about kisses and walks on the beach during sunsets.  
  
The Nibilians had it all wrong, had somehow confused love and friendship and how they showed in the human mind. Spock was wrong, and the Nibilians were wrong, and that was all there was to it.  
  
"We should get to work," he finally said, unwilling to contemplate those thoughts any further. He had plenty of other, more pressing things to worry about.  
  
Spock inclined his head at him. "Of course Captain. I will prepare the notifications for the crew."  
  
"Good. Let me know when we're ready to transport Bones back aboard."  
  
Spock nodded, and the two left the conference room. But while Spock was heading towards the Bridge, Jim entered the turbo lift and went down towards G-Deck, where Bones' quarters were located. Somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of the whole mess, and that things were going to get worse before they started to get better.  
  
  
 ***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***  
  
  
In this instance, Jim hated being right.  
  
Clearing out Bones' quarters was bad enough. It felt like looting, like breaching a private sphere he had not been invited into, much less allowed to bring guests to.  
  
Of course he had been in Bones' quarters before, many times. Even without his friend being there on occasion. But he had never snooped around, never rooted around in Bones private things. There had always been definite boundaries Jim had never dared to overstep. Now he had no choice but to do exactly that.  
  
Chapel and Uhura seemed similarly subdued, and they seemed actually relieved when Jim asked them to clear out Bones' closet and desk. Moving clothes and work-related things into the transport containers Scotty had brought up from Engineering seemed safe enough, but at the same time it left Jim with the task of taking care of all of Bones' more personal belongings. He had no issues whatsoever to clear out Bones' underwear drawers because seriously – his friend was one of the tidiest people Jim knew, and the chance to find something he didn't want to see in there was practically nonexistent. The bedside table was a different matter altogether, and it was only with a sense of dread that Jim pulled open the drawer and looked around inside.  
  
If he had expected the drawer to hold evidence of Bones' secretly kinky side, he was disappointed – although relieved was more apt a description of how he was feeling about that. The drawer contained nothing but an old-fashioned paperback book and a couple of PADDs labeled 'Jo', which Jim packed into a crate without looking at them more closely.  
  
It was actually scary how quickly all of his friend's possessions were packed up in the transport crates. Once Jim had cleared out the bathroom – there was lube in one of the bathroom drawers, thank God, finally a sign that Bones was only human – there was nothing left to do.  
  
Which was the point when Uhura just had to bring up the pictures, and proven Jim right about how things were going to get worse.  
  
"What do you mean, _pictures_?"  
  
Uhura gestured towards one of the framed holos of Jo which Chapel was busy taking down.  
  
"Pictures. There's plenty of pictures of Doctor McCoy's daughter, it would look weird if there were no pictures of the two of you amongst them. You can explain the lack of wedding pictures somehow, but no pictures at all? He won't buy that."  
  
Jim sighed, one hand buried in his hair. Of course Uhura was right. But he also knew that he didn't have any pictures or holos of Bones. Jim wasn't someone to hold on to physical things, had never been, and while he owned a few snapshots from their time at the Academy, those probably weren't the kind of pictures one would frame and hang up in the living room.  
  
So Jim committed the next breach of trust, adding yet another thing to the list of transgressions he had already committed today, and sat down in front of Bones' computer console. His override code granted him immediate access, and he started to browse through his friends stored messages, videos and pictures. The only good thing about it was that Bones was a complete neat-freak and had sorted all his files chronologically, so Jim didn't have to search for long.  
  
There were probably hundreds of pictures of Joanna. Jim knew that Bones and Jocelyn had settled into a state of truce over the past years, and he had been treated a number of Joanna's pictures whenever a new transmission arrived, but he hadn't known that there were quite so many.  
  
And what was even more startling was that there were plenty of pictures of him, as well. Not as many as of Joanna, not by a long shot, but far more than Jim would have ever thought, spanning their time at the Academy and the first years aboard Enterprise. Still, it took a while to find good pictures of them together, but in the end Jim found a few, snapshots that had been taken one the Academy grounds and during a few non-official functions aboard Enterprise when someone for some reason had taken holo pictures. None of these pictures were remotely romantic, but they were relaxed in those images, at ease with one another and looked comfortable, so maybe that was going to be enough.  
  
Uhura nodded agreement with those pictures, and Jim sent them off to her console for printing them out and framing them.  
  
There was hardly enough time for them to transport the containers to D-Deck and Jim's quarters. Jim had barely started to unpack Bones' more personal items – bathroom accessories and the contents of his bedside table and the locked desk drawer – in their respective place in his own quarters, when the chime rang and Scotty stood in front of his door.  
  
"Nibilia reports that they're ready to beam Dr. McCoy back aboard, Captain."  
  
Jim turned, somewhat helplessly in the face of all the things that still needed to be done. But Uhura waved him off.  
  
"Just go, Captain. We'll be done here in about an hour."  
  
It was a disconcerting feeling to leave the two women alone in his quarters to rummage through not only his own, but also Bones' possessions. Yet Jim had no other choice. M'Benga had been clear about his order that Jim had to be there when Bones came back aboard.  
  
"The Nibilians offered to beam the doctor right to Sickbay. It's not that I cannae do so as well when it comes down to it, but Spock said to just accept their offer and stay quiet about it."  
  
Jim just nodded, his mind too occupied to give much room to the question whether the Nibilians were better beamers than Montgomery Scott. As they entered the turbolift and the door closed behind them, Scotty suddenly reached into his pocket and withdrew something.  
  
"And I finished that other job, too." He opened his hand, revealing two silver rings in the palm of his hand. "I had to guess the sizes, but Doctor M'Benga still had those scans in your file from when you broke your hand during that mishap on Risa, and with Doctor McCoy we judged by the glove-size he prefers. Probably not perfect, but it should work." He dropped the rings into Jim's outstretched hand and slapped his shoulder jovially. "You'll grow into it, Captain."  
  
The turbolift doors opened at that moment, cutting off whatever remark Jim might have had in store in reply to those words. As they continued down the corridor towards Medical, Jim examined the rings more closely. They were a matted silver, but whatever material the Engineer had used it hadn't been pure. Fine dark grey lines ran through the silver material like a web of very fine veins. Spinning the slightly smaller of the two rings Jim found the word _Leonard_ engraved inside, the letters clear and without twirls or flourish. For a second he was confused, sure that his own fingers were marginally slimmer than Bones until his brain caught up and he realized that of course the ring with Bones' name engraved in it was supposed to be his.  
  
Checking the second ring, just as expected, he found the name _Jim_ engraved on the inside.  
  
"I know Lieutenant Uhura said not to use nicknames, but nae even Commander Spock calls you _James_ , so I figured I'd put Jim in there instead."  
  
It felt surreal, holding these rings in his hand, seeing all the details and planning this had required, made something inside Jim's gut lurch painfully.  
  
"Good job," Jim croaked out. "Is that platinum?"  
  
"Aye. Or so I thought until I cooled it down and saw the enclosed impurities. The next time you talk to Starfleet Command, you might want to tell them that if they send us platinum parts they might want to make sure that the metal is pure. I'm gonna go check all our relay containments first thing tomorrow morning."  
  
The rings had been part of the ship before Scotty had made them, and somehow that only added to the already painfully tight feeling in Jim's gut. But they were nearing Medical, and he needed to keep it together. There'd be time later to analyze everything and figure out what his gut reactions were trying to tell him.  
  
For now, he slipped the ring with Bones' name in it onto his left ring finger. It slid over the knuckle smoothly, and seemed neither too tight nor too wide, yet still the weight felt strange and unused on his hand. He couldn't help but shift and twist the metal band on his finger with his other hand, but to no avail. It was there, its weight a constant pressure that seemed to pull heavy on his left hand, and Jim wondered how people managed to wear rings like that without being consciously aware of them for every second. But maybe that was the reason why people wore these rings, because they wanted the constant reminder.  
  
Just for a few days at the most. Then everything was going to be back to normal.  
  
M'Benga and two members of the nursing staff were waiting when they entered Sickbay's main room, Spock waiting beside them.  
  
"The Nibilians are ready to beam up Doctor McCoy, Sir. Are we all set?"  
  
Jim nodded. "As far as I know. Chapel and Uhura are still busy at my quarters, but they should be done soon."  
  
"Very well," Spock said. "The crew have been informed of the situation and advised on how to act should Doctor McCoy mention things that seems strange to them. Doctor M'Benga informs me that Medical is all set to examine the doctor thoroughly once he arrives."  
  
Jim nodded. "Good. Then let's beam him up."  
  
M'Benga stepped forward. "Everyone who's not needed here step out! We don't want to crowd Doctor McCoy right away."  
  
Scotty left, as did the two nurses and a few other members of the medical staff who had been lingering in the background, leaving only M'Benga, Spock and Jim to await Bones' arrival. Jim watched with a little envy how they left Sickbay and the doors closed behind them. He'd very much prefer to leave and let someone else handle this too, if he was given a choice. But seeing that he was the doting husband, he had no choice but to take his position as first in line of this ugly charade and pretend everything was just the way it was supposed to be.  
  
Spock went over to the communications console near the wall. "Spock to the Bridge. Lieutenant, tell the Nibilians we're ready for Doctor McCoy."  
  
"Aye, Sir." Sulu's voice came over the comm unit, and a few breathless seconds later the air beside one of the biobeds began to shimmer, and before Jim knew what was happening suddenly Bones was standing in the room with them. He wasn't wearing his uniform but instead a simple pair of black scrubs with matching shirt, and it took Jim a moment to realize that the uniform had most probably been ruined in the shuttle crash.  
  
Bones was a little wide-eyed, something Jim wasn't used to seeing at all, and his eyes were darting between M'Benga and Spock in absolute confusion. When M'Benga took a step towards him, Bones even took a far step back. It was a barely perceptible movement, but Jim was sure the others had seen it as well. And then Bones' eyes fell onto Jim, and someone who didn't know Bones as well as Jim did might have missed it, but Jim saw the way his shoulders sagged slightly and some of the tension drained out of him. It took Jim a second to realize that Bones was actually relieved at seeing him, and whatever thoughts about rather being somewhere else Jim might have had went right out the window.  
  
He hadn't believed M'Benga earlier when the doctor had been talking about him being Bones' anchor or anything, but for this moment alone it had been worth it.  
  
The momentary relief Bones must have felt seemed to be fading fast, however, and before Jim could even form a conscious thought about it, his body had already started moving. He took a step towards Bones, as if trying to put himself between his friend and the other doctor, and he couldn't help but notice that this time, Bones didn't flinch, at least.  
  
"Welcome back aboard."  
  
Bones looked at Jim at those words, then cast his eyes around the room.  
  
"From one hospital to another, I'd say that's not really that much of an improvement."  
  
It sounded a lot like Bones, so much that something inside of Jim clenched painfully. Because while it sounded like Bones, it also didn't sound like him at all. It was a painful glimpse of what should be there, but wasn't.  
  
Maybe M'Benga sensed Jim's confusion, or maybe he simply had the right timing, but he used Jim's prolonged silence to take another careful step forward and stretch out his hand.  
  
"Leonard, it's good to have you back. I'm Geoffrey M'Benga, one of the doctors on your team. You always call me Geoffrey."  
  
Bones almost hesitantly took the offered hand and shook it, still very much startled by the fact that people he had absolutely no recollection of knew him.  
  
"Leonard," he grumbled almost too silently to hear, as if the name was still strange to him. "But I guess you already knew that."  
  
"This is Commander Spock, the First Officer aboard the Enterprise."  
  
Spock didn't move his hands from their clasped position behind his back, and Bones didn't hold out his hand, either, though Jim was unable to tell whether it was in direct reaction to Spock's behavior or because he knew that Vulcans didn't shake hands. Spock merely inclined his head at Bones.  
  
"Doctor."  
  
"And of course you already know Captain Kirk."  
  
Again, Bones' eyes turned towards him.  
  
"Jim, right?"  
  
There was a lot of insecurity in that question, so much that even if his name hadn't been Jim he'd have been inclined to claim that it was, just to give Bones the satisfaction of having remembered something right. He did his best to smile reassuringly at his friend.  
  
"Right. How are you feeling?"  
  
Bones shrugged. "I'll be fine once people stop prodding and poking me, and once I can finally remember a damn thing about myself."  
  
Spock took that as his cue to leave.  
  
"I have a video conference with the High Senator scheduled in a few minutes. If you'll excuse me, Doctors, Captain."  
  
And with another inclination of his head, he turned around and left.  
  
"So," Bones sounded uncharacteristically timid. "What now?"  
  
"Now I'm going to examine you. And then, once I have determined in how far you're fit for duty, you'll be treated the grand tour and then I'll release you to your quarters, unless there is a good reason for me not to. How does that sound?"  
  
"Great except for the part where I get examined again. Those blue-scaled guys down there already did their fair share of that, so why don't you just look into their results."  
  
M'Benga didn't seem taken aback by Bones' harsh tone at all. With a slight smile playing around the corners of his lips, he looked at Bones.  
  
"Would _you_ trust anybody else's test results?"  
  
"No." The answer came so fast it seemed to surprise Bones himself the most. And Jim had to admit that after that, Bones was pretty acquiescent. He sat down on the biobed M'Benga indicated and stoically bore the other doctor's examination, even though he was watching every one of M'Benga's moves suspiciously. Jim was standing a bit helplessly to the side, not daring to step closer to the bed because he wanted to give Bones the feeling that he had at least a little privacy, yet at the same time not quite willing to leave yet. For that, that look of relief on Bones' face upon seeing Jim had left too much of an impression.  
  
"Well," M'Benga finally announced as he stepped back from the bed. "It seems like the Nibilian healers did a good job with the physical injuries. Physically, I can give you a clean bill of health, Leonard."  
  
"Yeah, it's just the great big blank where my memory is supposed to be that's still a problem, I get it. And there's no medical treatment for amnesia. So everything is just damn brilliant."  
  
M'Benga leaned against the biobed facing Bones' and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"It's frustrating, I know. But it will come back. Probably not all at once, but there is no medical reason to believe hat your memory will not come back. We will settle you back into your normal rhythm to help move things along. I'll put you on light duty from tomorrow afternoon on."  
  
Bones nodded slowly, but clearly not at all satisfied by those words. "Okay."  
  
Jim took the ended examination as his cue to step forward, even though he didn't really know what to say or do. In his helplessness, he finally settled on what seemed like a good, neutral thing to break the ice.  
  
"So, I could give you the grand tour of the ship now."  
  
Both men looked up at Jim, and there was obvious indecision in Bones' gaze. It was M'Benga who immediately had another suggestion.  
  
"Actually Captain, I was going to suggest to go through some old medical case files with Leonard, to see what he thinks about some of the cases, and to get him reacquainted with the layout of this place. That is, if you don't mind."  
  
Jim quickly shook his head. "No, of course not. I'll get to the Bridge then, and see how the negotiations are coming along. If that's okay with you, Bones."  
  
Bones didn't immediately react, but when both Jim and M'Benga kept looking at him expectantly he looked up in surprise and nodded quickly.  
  
"Sure. I mean, no need for you to hang around here if you got more important tings to do."  
Jim vaguely wondered what a good husband's response would be. That nothing was more important than Bones' wellbeing? He didn't need a marriage license to know that in theory, that was true, while in reality a Starship Captain wasn't often allowed the particular luxury of putting his personal problems first – no matter if they were marriage problems or a best friend who had lost his memory.  
  
In the end, he settled on a non-committal shrug.  
  
"If you need me to stick around, I can do that. But if you two want to exchange medical jargon, I'll just take a look to see if anything needs my attention that I actually understand something about."  
  
Bones nodded, not even cracking a smile at the joke. "Sure."  
  
"If there's anything you need, just comm me."  
  
"Yeah." Bones seemed at a loss for what to say. "And…you know, thanks. For sticking around."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Jim forced another small smile, but then he left the two doctors to the PADDs and case files Jim was sure M'Benga had prepared in Bones' office and turned to leave.  
  
It was a disconcerting feeling to leave Sickbay, and one that didn't let up for the entire afternoon as Jim strolled around the ship in search of something useful to do that would keep him out of Sickbay and out of his own quarters – a place where he was somewhat afraid to go after all the redecorating that must have taken place.  
  
On the one hand, Jim was glad that M'Benga was looking after Bones for now, for the purely selfish reason that he didn't know how to handle this person who looked like Bones and sounded like Bones, but was just an empty shell of the Bones Jim knew and…of the Bones Jim _knew_. And on the other hand Jim wanted to be there, he wanted to be around in case Bones remembered something. Jim wanted to be there immediately so that he could start to explain this whole charade once Bones remembered how things were supposed to be. But most of all Jim wanted to be there because he wanted to see the recognition in his friend's eyes once he remembered; he wanted to look into those hazel eyes and see _Bones_ looking back at him.  
  
But for now, his place wasn't with Bones, and Jim felt strangely detached from the life on the ship that usually felt like an extended part of himself.  
  
Spock was back on Nibilia to continue negotiations with Rash'Tar, Jim wasn't needed on the bridge, and nobody in Engineering needed his help, either. It seemed that for now, the whole ship was set to function without Jim so that Jim could take care of Bones. And now that Bones didn't need him for the time being, Jim didn't quite know what to do with himself.  
  
He went into mess hall for something to eat, but ended up pushing things around his plate more than he was actually eating something. Even the fork felt different in his hand now, just as if that ring on his finger was upsetting the entire balance of his hand. It looked strange, as well. Jim wasn't the type of person who wore jewelry, never had been, and he couldn't help but thinking that everybody only had to look at his hand to know that the ring didn't belong there.  
  
With a tired sigh, he put his half-eaten plate into the recycler and left mess hall again. Maybe he should just go back to his quarters and face what Chapel and Uhura had done there. Sooner or later he was going to have to go back there, after all, and it couldn't be that bad, could it? A few more clothes in his closet, a different shampoo in his shower, a couple of PADDs lying around that weren't his own.  
  
Soon Bones was going to have his memory back, and then it was all going to be back to normal soon.  
  
Until then, Jim would deal. Somehow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**  
  
Dinner was a good plan. Admittedly not the most ingenious one Jim had ever come up with in his life, but it seemed like a safe enough choice right now. Everybody needed to eat after all, even amnesiac best friends who just happened to think that they were his husband. So they were going to eat dinner, talk a little, and hope for the best.  
  
Jim had been hesitant to go back to his quarters. Truth be told, he had expected horrible things upon his return, but he had to admit that Chapel and Uhura had done a good job. Of course the room seemed a lot more crowded now that twice the amount of things had been fitted into it, but somehow the two women had managed to make it look as if Bones' life hadn't just been randomly stuffed amongst Jim's things. If Jim didn't know better, he'd say it really looked like they both lived here.  
  
Bones' books were mixed with his own on the narrow shelf beside the door, each of them owned one half of the bedroom closet and the bathroom cabinets, and Jim's desk had been replaced with two smaller ones that stood at an angle, just as if they were used to sitting there, facing each other while they worked.  
  
It looked real.  
  
And it looked _wrong_.  
  
It looked as if Jim had taken a wrong turn somewhere and had ended up in someone else's quarters. And once Bones had his memory back – _soon_ , Jim hoped – this whole elaborate scheme was going to become something Jim was forever going to feel guilty about. But until that happened, there was nothing he could do but pretend that this fake domestic bliss was really his life.  
  
With Bones still busy getting reacquainted with Sickbay, Jim settled at his desk and pulled up some paperwork that needed doing. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Chapel and Uhura had put everything right where it had been in his old, larger desk. He didn't know if he'd have had the same amount of consideration in their position, but right now at least it spared him the search for his things. Being on light duty, there wasn't much current paperwork he had to catch up on, but he still had to file the incident report from the shuttle accident, and he needed to sign off on the protocols from the first couple of days of negotiations with the Nibilians. It was a tedious task, not to mention boring as hell, but it kept him occupied for the better part of two hours, until the chime of his comm unit tore him out of the PADD he had been studying.  
  
It was a message from M'Benga, and for a second – just one heart-stopping second – Jim thought that the doctor was going to tell him that Bones had his memory back and they could all go back to normal. But M'Benga would have called if something like this had happened; he most certainly wouldn't have sent a short written message over the comm system which Jim might or might not read straight away.   
  
Rationally, Jim knew that, but not even that knowledge could stop the hope from flaring up cruelly and painfully. Instead of the news Jim desperately wanted to hear yet knew he wasn't going to get, M'Benga let Jim know that they were finished in Sickbay and that he was going to drop Bones at Jim's quarters in a few minutes.   
  
Jim's heart started to hammer in his chest at that, even though he didn't quite know why. Quickly, he took another surreptitious look around the room, trying to find the one small detail they had missed, the thing that was undoubtedly there and that would let Bones know immediately that all this was fake. But Jim saw nothing, and then much too soon the door chime sounded. He nearly stumbled over his own legs as he hurried over towards the door and palmed it open.   
  
Bones was standing in front of it, with M'Benga standing to the side and a step or two behind him. For a second or two, there was only silence.   
  
"Hey," Jim eventually greeted, feeling slightly dumb.   
  
"Hey," Bones greeted back, sounding equally unenthusiastic about the stilted conversation.   
  
This was ridiculous. If there was one area Jim had never had any problems in, then it was communication with others, but right now he couldn't even find the right thing to say to the man who was his best friend in the entire damn universe. Once again, it was M'Benga who jumped in as a lifesaver.   
  
"All right, Leonard, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for beta shift then."   
  
Bones nodded at the other doctor, with a slight smile that wasn't quite as forced as the ones he had given Jim before, and Jim felt a slight jab of something he couldn't quite put a name to at seeing that.   
  
"Thanks Geoffrey."   
  
"Captain."   
  
"Doctor."   
  
M'Benga turned and walked down the corridor, and Jim hurriedly stepped to the side.   
  
"Come on in."   
  
Bones slowly stepped into the room, and Jim desperately searched for something to fill the silence that started to settle between them once more.   
  
"Right…you don't need to use the chime, of course. I mean, this is your quarters too, so the combination for the door is 7-7-3-9-Alpha."   
  
Bones nodded absent-mindedly. He had stopped a few steps into the room, and his eyes were roaming around as if searching for something familiar to hold on to. Jim watched silently as Bones looked all around the room, eyes darting here and there as if afraid he might miss something if he kept looking at one spot for too long. Finally, when he had looked in each direction at least once, if not more often, and still failed to find anything he recognized, he turned back towards Jim.   
  
"Okay, thanks."   
  
Jim only wanted for Bones to stop thanking him for the most mundane of things. But then Bones' eyes darted to the side as if they had seen something, and he quickly stepped over into the small living area. Jim followed him, trying to figure out what had caught his friend's attention, when Bones stopped in front of the wall behind the sofa, where Chapel and Uhura had put up all the pictures of Joanna. Jim wanted to slap himself. The pictures hadn't stood out to him because after all these years he was so used to being around images of Joanna, but of course to Bones they had to stand out like a beacon. For a few seconds, Bones silently looked at the pictures, then he turned back towards Jim with wide eyes.   
  
"We have a kid?"   
  
Bones' breathing had grown somewhat heavy, and he was looking around the room as if expecting a little brown-haired girl to come bouncing out of a hidden corner at any moment now.   
  
Jim quickly shook his head. "No. No, we don't. You do."   
  
Bones turned back, pure astonishment written on his face. "I? But…what…Where is she?"   
  
"Back on Earth, with her mother."   
  
The nod Bones gave in response was absent, as if he wasn't really listening anymore. There were so many pictures of Joanna up on the walls, and he looked from one to the next, trying to take in all the different settings, the growth and development that was caught in those unmoving holographic images, trying to gauge this child he had suddenly acquired by the freeze-frames of her life in front of him.  
  
"What's her name?" He finally asked, his voice rough.   
  
"Joanna," Jim replied, with the feeling that he was revealing something precious. "She's nine years old now."   
  
Bones' lips silently formed Joanna's name, as if trying it out for the first time, and Jim had to turn away when he saw his friend's hand jerk towards the picture he was standing in front of, as if he wanted to trace her features on the holo; as if he could bring the memories back just by touching that image of her face.   
  
This was by far the worst thing. Joanna was the one thing in Bones' life that was untarnished, the one thought that never failed to cheer him up. She was the one constant Bones' life revolved around, and the thought that he had lost _that_ memory as well was far more cruel than any of the other things he had lost. Suddenly, getting his best friend back no longer was the main reason why Jim desperately wanted for Bones to regain his memory.   
  
"You talk to her whenever there's a chance to establish a live comm link to Earth. In between that, you're exchanging video messages and letters a few times a week. You got all of them saved on PADDs, if you want to look at them."   
  
Bones ran a hand over his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose tightly before he spoke.   
  
"Not…not today."   
  
Jim stood there, once more rendered into complete helplessness as Bones kept on gazing at the pictures. Silence settled over the room and stretched on for a few minutes, until Bones finally tore his eyes away from Joanna. Once more, just like it had happened far too often over the span of the past day, the silence between them grew uncomfortable. It shouldn't be like that, not when Bones had a whole life to catch up on and Jim desperately wanted to tell his friend everything he knew in the hope that something was going to trigger his memories to come back. They should be talking, him telling everything he could think of and Bones asking about anything Jim might have forgotten. By all rights they had reasons enough to chat the entire night away.   
  
But Jim didn't find any words, nothing that would mean anything in the face of what Bones was going through, and all the thing she was slowly rediscovering about himself. So again, Jim settled for what was probably the worst and most mundane thing he could have said.   
  
"I…I don't know if you're hungry, but we could eat dinner if you want something."   
  
Bones looked confused for a second, then he shook his head. "No, thanks. Geoffrey got us something to eat earlier, while we were going over some medical records." He shrugged, but then his eyes widened all of a sudden. "That was okay, wasn't it? I mean, nobody told me anything different. Do we normally have dinner together? I'm sorry if I missed it, I just didn't know."   
  
The insecurity was back in Bones' voice, stronger than earlier, and it caused Jim near physical pain to see how something as simple as a dinner he might have possibly missed threw Bones out of whatever fragile balance he had built up for himself.   
  
"No!" Jim replied immediately, a little too forcefully. "I mean, of course we have dinner together when we can, but it's not like one of us is waiting for the other until dinner gets cold. We eat together whenever we can, but when it doesn't work out, that's okay, too. So you didn't miss anything."   
  
Bones seemed really relieved at those words, and Jim breathed a silent sigh of relief. This time, it hadn't even been a lie he needed to tell. Yet still, he didn't know for how long he could keep this up, though, putting out fires he himself had set inadvertently.   
  
"I'll just grab something from the replicator, it's really no problem."   
  
"Good. You need to tell me about these things. Geoffrey said I should stick to my regular routines, but right now I'll be damned if I remember any of them."   
  
"Sure," Jim nodded, relieved that there was finally something he could do for his friend. "It's not like life on the ship is any good for developing routines, but there's a few things. And if there's anything you want to know, you need to ask. I'll probably assume a lot of things even though I know you can't remember."   
  
"Okay."   
  
Again, that dreadful silence settled.   
  
"So, anything you want to know now, Bones?"   
  
"Why do you call me that?"   
  
Jim was a little taken aback, and at first he didn't understand what the other man was talking about.   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
" _Bones_. That's what you call me, isn't it? Took me a while to understand that you mean me when you say it."   
  
It made sense, in a cruel way, how Bones had not always reacted when Jim had addressed him or asked him something. Of course he hadn't understood earlier. To him, Bones was simply Bones, and had always been. Jim thought of his friend as Bones, and he only ever used the name Leonard, aloud or in his head, when he was talking about him officially.   
  
"Yeah, it's what I always call you."   
  
"But… _Bones_?"   
  
Jim smiled. "It's something you said when we first met."   
  
Bones didn't ask for details, and somehow Jim felt disappointed at that lack of inquiry.   
  
"And you always call me that? Never by my given name?"   
  
Jim shrugged, not understanding why that was so hard to take in for Bones.   
  
"Not always. I call you Doctor McCoy when we're on duty, but other than that it's always Bones. Never anything else."   
  
He looked into Bones' face then, and something inside his gut tightened painfully at the lost and confused expression on the other man's face. "Do you want me to stop?"   
  
"I…no. I don't know. It's probably a thing I wouldn't think twice about under normal circumstances, it's just that…" He shook his head and drew a deep breath, as if trying to garner the courage to look into Jim's eyes. "I have a hard enough time being Leonard right now."   
  
A punch to the gut couldn't have hurt more.   
  
"I understand."   
  
And Jim did, rationally, but inside of him everything was screaming that no, he didn't understand, didn't want to understand and most definitely didn't _want_ to change the way he was addressing Bones. But he couldn't say that, not when all that mattered right now was that Bones was feeling comfortable. So that really only left one thing he could say: that he understood.   
  
"I might slip up though, I'm really not used to calling you Leonard."   
  
And damn if that name didn't sound weird – not to mention wrong – to his own ears. Which was ridiculous, because it was Bones' name. It belonged to him, was an integral part of him, but the thing was that it wasn't _Jim's_ name for him. Losing the right to call him Bones felt like losing yet another piece of his friend, and Jim's first instinct was to claw and struggle to hold on to it instead of letting it slip away.   
  
"Thanks Jim."   
  
It was okay. Bones would have his memory back soon, and then everything was going to be back to normal. Jim could deal with things being all wrong for a little while. He'd learn how to, in any case.   
  
"So, if you've already eaten, we could…I don't know. I could tell you more about yourself, if you want. We could just talk for a while, or…"   
  
Bones started shaking his head before Jim could even finish speaking.   
  
"I…thanks Jim, but this day – it's been a lot to take in, and I'm still pretty beat from that accident and whatever those blue-scaled so-called doctors pumped me full of. If that's okay, I think I'll just go to bed."   
  
It was only a quarter past eight, which was about four hours earlier than Bones normally went to bed. Jim didn't think his friend was lying – Bones definitely looked exhausted enough. But still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Bones was glad to have a valid reason not to talk to him right now, and that was something Jim simply couldn't comprehend.   
  
Was it him, or this whole fucked up situation? He had no idea how horrible it had to feel to be in Bones' shoes right now, but what if that wasn't the only reason Bones was behaving so cool towards him? Bones' friendship was something Jim had never doubted, had never needed to doubt or worry about in any way. But now the thought that they were married seemed impossible to Bones, something that created more of a distance between them rather than make them bond. The thought hurt, and it made Jim feel insecure about the one thing he had seen as a permanent fixture in his life. What if this new Bones discovered that he didn't like him? What if once Bones had his memory back, things weren't going to be the same between them because the Leonard McCoy who didn't have the memories of years of friendship with Jim found that they didn't match?   
  
Bones didn't seem particularly interested in trying right now, and while the simplest explanation for that maybe was that he was simply tired from his ordeal, Jim was scared that there was more to it. But still, what could he do but nod at Bones' suggestion?   
  
"Sure. If you're tired, of course."   
  
Again, Jim waited for Bones to make a move, and again it took him a few long seconds until he understood that Bones was waiting for a sign, any kind of hint to his usual bedtime routine.   
  
Or maybe just for Jim to point out where the bed was.   
  
Or…   
  
"Which side is mine?"   
  
Or, of course, to tell him which side of the bed to sleep on.   
  
Damn.   
  
As Captain, Jim was granted a wider bed than the narrow standard-issue ones that otherwise equipped the crew quarters. He had often joked – ironically, with Bones – that the size of his bed was practically Starfleet's way of saying that a Captain wasn't supposed to sleep alone. To add yet another irony to that, ever since he had become Captain, Jim had spent every single night aboard alone in that bed.   
  
Until now.   
  
And fuck, how stupid had he been for not even _thinking_ about the sleeping arrangements before? He had moved all of Bones' possessions into his quarters, yet had successfully managed to push away the thought that he and Bones were supposed to play married. And married people shared a bed.   
  
Just great.   
  
Suddenly, the bed seemed pretty damn narrow to Jim.   
  
When he led Bones around the partition that separated the bed from the living area of his quarters, it seemed pretty obvious that his friend shared his thoughts on the matter, and Jim immediately steered back from this newest problem.   
  
"I can sleep on the sofa."   
  
Bones' head snapped up in surprise, but Jim only shrugged.   
  
"It's no problem. I mean, I can't imagine what this has to feel like but I'm practically a stranger to you and now we're supposed to share a bed. It's okay if that's too much for you."   
  
But, much to his surprise, Bones shook his head.   
  
"No. I…Geoffrey said I should do everything I normally do. So if we normally sleep in this bed together, we're gonna do just that. Unless…well, unless you're uncomfortable with that."   
  
Jim wasn't uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as Bones, not at all. They had shared cramped spaces before, bunking in with one another during those busy evenings before finals back at the Academy, or sharing a small tent during outdoor survival training. Jim had no problem sleeping in the same bed as Bones. But that was his Bones, and not this…this stranger who looked like Bones yet acted nothing like him.   
  
But his opinion on that didn't really seem to matter right now. After all, _Geoffrey_ had said so, and who was Jim to disagree with _Geoffrey_? Bones for sure hadn't seemed half as uncomfortable around him as he appeared to be around Jim. And since when did Bones call the other doctor by his first name, anyway?   
  
Bones was looking at him with that questioning gaze again, and Jim shook his head after a little too much hesitation.   
  
"No, no. We can sleep in the same bed, if it's okay with you."   
  
"Yeah. Sure." Bones sounded anything but. "So…my clothes?"   
  
"Of course." Jim immediately moved over towards the dresser, pointing out drawers. "Underwear, socks and pajamas are all in the lower two drawers. The left half of the closet is yours, too. And, well, you sleep on the left side of the bed."   
  
Which technically made the right half of the bed Jim's, and wasn't that going to be interesting. Mostly, he slept in the middle of the bed, and he had only designated the left side to Bones because that was the side where the empty bedside table had been put. But they were going to make it work somehow. They had to, after all, and Jim was good at improvising.   
  
It was a bit awkward as Bones shuffled through his clothes as if he had never seen them before, eventually picking out a pair of pajama pants and a faded t-shirt which he carried into the bathroom. Awkward didn't even begin to describe Jim's feelings as Bones went into the bathroom, acting every bit as if he was a guest who wasn't sure of his welcome. While Bones got ready to settle for the night – and yes, the blue toothbrush was his, not the green one on the right side – Jim went to the closet and pulled out his gym clothes. He wasn't going to be able to sleep at half past eight in the evening, and maybe it was for the best if he completely exhausted himself before he even tried to get some sleep in this absurd scenario that had become his life.   
  
And maybe he was getting paranoid, but Bones' voice sounded nearly relieved through the bathroom door when Jim told him that he was going to the gym. Maybe it was for the best if they did it like this. If they went to bed together, all tense and wired, nobody was going to get any sleep tonight. With any luck, Bones was going to be asleep by the time Jim came back home, and he was going to be so exhausted that he'd fall right asleep. A win-win situation for them both.   
  
So Jim ran.   
  
He changed clothes at the gym, and then he ran one entire lap around the circular corridor that spanned the widest circle around the saucer section. He often ran those laps to unwind, but tonight for once he didn't time himself. This wasn't a training exercise, this was simply a way to exhaust himself enough so that he'd be able to fall asleep. So he ran, the rhythmic thud-thud of his feet the only sound in the mostly empty corridors. Jim loved that part of exercise, the moments when the physical strain became so much that it chased everything else from his mind and left it in a state of blissful numbness. Just what he needed right now.   
  
Back at the gym, heart pounding fast in his chest and the back of his shirt already stuck to his skin, Jim taped his hands and started working the punching bags until his knuckles were red and stinging, and his breath burned in his lungs. Sweat was running down his face and neck in small rivulets, and with one last hard punch against the bag Jim simply knew that he was tired enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.   
  
Jim used the sonic showers in the gym since he could hardly use his own shower when Bones was sleeping in the adjacent room, then he changed back into his clothes and returned to his quarters. _  
  
Their_ quarters.   
  
Whatever.   
  
The rooms were dark as the door swished open for him, and in a quiet voice Jim ordered the computer to turn the lights up to 10% as he grabbed some clothes and got ready for the night. Bones was, by all appearances, fast asleep as Jim stepped up to the bed. He was lying on his left side, facing away from Jim's side of the bed, and his breathing was deep and even. He didn't even stir as Jim ordered the lights off and climbed into the bed beside him.   
  
They could have probably fit a third person into the space between them the way both of them were hugging their side of the bed, but that was all the better. Besides, Jim's workout at the gym paid off. Be fore he could even contemplate in any depth whether they were acting more like strangers than the married couple they were supposed to be, Jim's eyes drifted close and he fell asleep.   
  
He dreamed of dark corridors and voices whispering in the distance, urgent sounds that were too low for him to understand. Jim was chasing through the darkness, looking for something even though he had no idea what it was. He only knew that it was of vital importance that he found whatever he was looking for, and that was reason enough to run blindly through the darkness, chasing whispers amidst the things that were touching him in the pitch-black, tugging at him and trying to pull him away.   
  
The tugging at his hand became more insistent, and Jim lazily drifted back to awareness from the feeling of someone pulling at his hand, trying to move it out of the way. It took a moment for the situation to make sense, though. He was lying in his bed, curled up against Bones' warm body, and if it wasn't for the insistent tugging at his hand, Jim would have gladly drifted back off to sleep.   
  
At some point during the night he must have shifted back into his usual position in the middle of the bed, and must have curled up around Bones instinctively, arm wrapped around Bones' middle which the other man was now trying to dislodge.   
  
Huh.  
  
Jim for sure wasn't a cuddler, at least not that he knew of, and it definitely wasn't something that had been a part of his friendship with Bones at any point. But still, it felt good, and in his half-asleep state Jim wondered idly why Bones seemed so insistent on getting away when it would be so much easier to relax back against Jim and go back to sleep.   
  
Jim didn't know where the urge suddenly came from, but he knew for a fact that he didn't want Bones to get out of bed just yet. So without even thinking about it, Jim tightened the arm Bones was trying to push away around the other man's side, pulling him back against himself. They ended up pressed flush against one another, Jim's chest against Bones' back and his hand splayed over Bones' stomach as he shifted his legs to tuck them behind Bones' thighs.   
  
His erection shifted over Bones' ass as he moved, and immediately Bones stiffened, body going rigid for a second or two before he unwrapped Jim's arm from his side and frantically shifted towards the edge of the bed.   
  
Oh. _  
  
OH_.   
  
Jim let go immediately, scurrying back to the other side of the bed as his cheeks flamed hotly.   
  
"Sorry, Bones. I…I'm sorry."   
  
Jim blinked his eyes open to find Bones sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to Jim and the fabric of his t-shirt pulled tight over his shoulders as he leaned his head into his hands. When he didn't react to Jim's words, Jim sat up, his pajamas suddenly uncomfortably tight around his arousal.   
  
"Bo… _Leonard_." He still hated saying the name, hated the distance it created between them. "I'm sorry. I didn't…God, I really didn't want to push you in any way."   
  
And if that wasn't the truth, Jim didn't know what was. He was no stranger to waking up with morning wood. Damn it, he was a healthy man in his twenties, he'd be worried if he didn't. But curling up around Bones the way he had done, memory loss or not, that was crossing a line Jim hadn't even considered before.   
  
"It's okay," Bones replied, his voice muffled behind his hands.   
  
"I…I guess it's no big deal normally. I'm not an idiot. We're married, so of course we…" He made a vague gesture with his right hand. "I know this thing between us normally isn't platonic. Just…just not now, Jim. I can't."   
  
Jim felt like an idiot. And idiot and an asshole. Yesterday evening he had been berating himself for not considering their sleeping arrangements, but this was even worse. Bones with his memory intact would have never worried about a pretend marriage like that. But without his memory…of course he had to think they had sex. And damn, that was one lie Jim absolutely didn't feel comfortable with.   
  
"I know. I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean to push you, really."   
  
Bones nodded slowly, exhaling a deep sigh. "I know, Jim."   
  
Jim watched in rapt fascination how the muscles on Bones' back shifted under the thin material of his t-shirt as he straightened up and ran a hand through his hair.   
  
"It's okay." He repeated, though Jim wasn't sure who he was trying to convince. With his back still turned towards Jim, Bones got up from his perch on the edge of the bed and opened the closet door.   
  
"I'm gonna grab a shower."   
  
And it was only when Bones turned around, the bundle of clothes pressed firmly in front of him as he walked past the bed towards the bathroom, that Jim realized that he wasn't the only one who had woken up in a state of arousal. Bones kept his eyes averted, cheeks flushed as he brushed past the bed with his uniform pressed against himself to hide his state, and when the bathroom doors swished shut behind Bones, Jim sank back onto the bed with a groan.   
  
Just fucking awesome.   
  
This whole fake-marriage thing was bad enough, and what Bones really didn't need right now was to think he was being put under that kind of pressure by his husband. Especially since said husband was only interested in him getting his memory back, and not in sex.   
  
Jim didn't think about Bones like that. That was just ridiculous. Bones was his friend, the very best friend Jim had in the entire world, but…nothing more. Nothing like that. Not at all. Not even unconsciously. Besides, where the hell had all that come from?   
  
The morning erection – yeah. Jim knew those. He got that part, and it was pretty damn normal for any man.   
  
What wasn't normal was how content Jim had felt in those few blissful moments between sleep and awakening. He had known that it was Bones then, but still he had wanted nothing more than to curl up around him in a way that went far beyond any occasional friendly embrace. He had wanted to go back to sleep curled up around Bones, face pressed against his neck and his arms around Bones.   
  
Yeah. _  
  
That_ sounded like something to worry about.   
  
Spock's words still echoed in his head, but Jim kept shaking his head as if that could somehow chase them away. Bones was his _friend_. His best friend. But no matter what the Nibilian High Senator might think, he wasn't in love with him. That thought was ridiculous. It was the worry about his friend, and the confusion about all this pretend marriage that had broken down some barriers Jim would have never crossed if Bones hadn't lost his memory. They were close, incredibly close, and if Bones still remembered just _how_ close then this whole thing would have been brushed off as no big deal.   
  
Which it was.   
  
No big deal.   
  
Just a little confusion, nothing more. Yet here he was, still just as hard as he had been upon waking up, and the thought that Bones was in a similar state, in the bathroom right next to him…Before Jim knew what was happening, his palm brushed over his fabric-clad erection, and he hissed as his arousal rose up another notch.   
  
Damn it, what was he doing?   
  
He wasn't going to jerk off with Bones in the bathroom right next to him. And for crying out loud, he most definitely wasn't going to jerk off to the thought that Bones had been in a perfectly normal state of arousal upon waking up.   
  
What the hell was _wrong_ with him?   
  
With both hands balled into fists at his sides, Jim forced himself to ignore the painful throbbing in his lower regions, got out of bed and pulled out fresh clothes. Getting into the bathroom was just as awkward and embarrassing as Bones' earlier trek along the same route had been. Jim kept his bundle of clothes pressed firmly against his crotch as he brushed into the bathroom once Bones came out, and he stood under the cold spray of the shower until his erection finally wilted and he could get dressed.   
  
They didn't speak much once they were both ready and dressed for the day, and Jim definitely noticed how Bones refused to meet his eyes for longer than a brief glance whenever they had to speak. Jim was glad when Bones agreed to having breakfast in the mess hall.   
  
Jim would have done anything to escape his quarters at that point. Maybe the rooms were simply too small for two people to be living in them, because even though Bones was the one person Jim had never minded sharing space with, it was all too much, too close.   
  
Being back on the ship, back in the normal every day life aboard, was going to be a relief. Bones seemed to think so, too, even though in his case it meant relief about the fact that alpha shift had started about an hour ago and mess hall was pretty much empty when they got there. Jim didn't comment on it. He didn't try to make conversation as they both sat down and ate their respective breakfasts, either.   
  
Bones might still be embarrassed about the way they had woken up, but Jim had apologized for it, even though it hadn't really been his fault to begin with, and he really didn't know what else he should do about it. So he was going to give Bones space and silence if that was what he wanted, but sooner or later they were going to have to get over this. It hadn't been a big deal. Nothing to worry about, really.   
  
There hadn't been anything sexual about it, either. Not at the moment when Jim had woken up, at least. It had been comfortable, and comforting, the way physical proximity made you feel if the one you were close to was someone you trusted and knew nearly better than yourself. Nothing more, despite all thoughts that might have entered Jim's mind once he had woken up fully. And once Bones remembered, he'd understand.   
  
After breakfast, Bones finally agreed to the tour of the ship Jim had been trying to give him ever since his release from Sickbay. And Bones tried, Jim could tell. Even though he took great care to keep a certain physical distance between them, he listened patiently as Jim showed him around. Even when Jim was talking about things he knew for a fact Bones wasn't interested at all, he didn't let it on.   
  
Jim tried to keep the tour short so that Bones wouldn't grow tired of what he was saying, but found that he couldn't get out of his skin. Jim loved his ship, and he loved showing her off to others. And Bones indulged him, listening patiently as Jim got lost in technical details and showing off places that even most of Starfleet's engineers probably wouldn't be interested in.   
  
The only thing they did not cover during their tour was the Bridge. He didn't mention it and Bones didn't ask, and Jim thought it better if Bones got reacquainted with the senior officers one by one. He didn't seem too keen to be around too many people right now, and the Bridge was the one place on board that was perpetually crowded, and where every visitor found themselves at the center of attention as soon as they stepped on it. Jim didn't think Bones was ready for that just yet.   
  
Instead, they took a look at the empty Transporter Room, made a detour through Engineering and, since they were already in the area, went into Shuttle Bay.   
  
On any ordinary day, the huge hangar that housed Enterprise's shuttles would have given Bones the creeps, Jim knew that. Just the thought that its large doors opened into the blackness of space was enough of a reason why Bones never set foot in the place unless he had to, but today these contemplations didn't seem to be on the forefront of his mind. As soon as Jim led them off the catwalks and onto the hangar floor, Bones turned towards the nearest shuttle. With a small pang Jim noticed that it was Shuttle 4, the _Gilliam_ , the shuttle Bones had smuggled Jim aboard on what seemed like a lifetime ago now.   
  
The hatch was open, revealing the inside, yet before either of them could step close enough to even think about entering, there was a loud banging and a startled yell from the roof of the shuttle, and Jim barely had time enough to give Bones a shove to the side before an interphasic coil spanner dropped down from the roof of the shuttle and landed on the hangar floor with a loud _clang_.   
  
"Damn ye, I told ye to be careful with those! Coil spanners don't grow on trees, just so you know! If you broke it, I promise you're gonnae request a new one form the Captain!"   
  
Jim picked up the coil spanner, examined it carefully and with a smile on his face looked up towards the roof of the shuttle.  
  
"No need for that, Mr. Scott!"   
  
A head appeared on the edge of the shuttle roof, peering down at them, quickly followed by Keenser's greenish visage.   
  
"Aye, Captain. I keep telling the wee one to take more care with the equipment."   
  
Jim knew that more than enough of all Engineering accidents had nothing to do with Keenser's ability or inability to take care, but he let that remark slide without comment. Scotty and Keenser had a strange symbiosis going on, and verbal abuse seemed to be a big part of their mutual affection. Scotty spotted Bones standing next to Jim, and with a small smile saluted him.   
  
"Doctor. Good to see you up and about again."   
  
Keenser nodded enthusiastically, then Scotty took the coil spanner back from Jim and the both of them went back to whatever discussion they were having before. Neither of them stared at Bones. Neither of them acted weirdly. In fact, they both acted just like they would on any ordinary day, and Jim was relieved beyond measure. That was exactly how he had hoped the crew would react when facing Bones, and maybe it was a good sign that Bones' first encounter didn't seem to become a strenuous one.   
  
"Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott, our Chief Engineer." Jim introduced.   
  
"Scotty to my friends," Scotty called from the roof of the shuttle. Peering down again, he looked at Bones. "Which includes you, Doctor, despite all the berating and name-calling."   
  
Bones raised a curious eyebrow at that, but Scotty had already gone back to work, and Jim just shook his head at him with a slight smile.   
  
"Never mind that, Bones. I mean, _Leonard_. Sorry. Anyway, that's Scotty, and the other one is Keenser, the second best engineer aboard."   
  
Jim's words were followed by a loud _poof_ and a sizzling sound from above their heads which had Jim wondering if the two Engineers were frying eggs somewhere. Bones didn't say anything, but his eyes were speaking a clear enough language – if those were their best engineers, they were doomed. If this episode was the only impression Jim ever had of them he might be inclined to agree. But he knew the engineering genius that was Montgomery Scott, and the reliable pillar that was Keenser, and knew that he wouldn't want to entrust his ship to anybody else.   
  
Still, sometimes these two had a tendency to…experiment a little too much. It never hurt to ask.   
  
"Everything all right up there, Mr. Scott?" Jim called up.   
  
This time, Scotty's face didn't appear again, but his voice rang loud and clear as he answered. "Aye. Just doing a little upgrade to the electrical system, she's gonnae be good as new in a few hours."   
  
"All right."   
  
Jim turned back towards Bones and found that his friend had his attention turned towards the shuttle, mustering it with closer scrutiny than Jim had ever seen him pay to a transport of that kind before. He stepped up to him.   
  
"You okay?"   
  
Bones looked up with a slight frown. "The crash…did it happen in one of these?"   
  
"It wasn't one of our shuttles, no. The accident happened in one of the Nibilian shuttles. They're pretty similar to this one, just not made for interstellar travel. Size and look were pretty similar, though."   
  
Bones nodded and slowly stretched out his hand to run it over the cool metal of the shuttle's outer hull. Jim stood silently, not wanting to disturb whatever thoughts his friend seemed to be lost in. Bones withdrew his hand again, wiping his palm against his thigh as if the shuttle had left some residue on his skin.   
  
"I don't know if I like shuttles."   
  
Jim nearly burst out laughing. "Yeah, you could say that."   
  
Bones' eyes were wide as he turned towards him. "I don't?"   
  
Jim shook his head. "You hate shuttles. You hate flying on shuttles, and you're grouching and complaining, predicting imminent death, whenever you're forced to be on one."   
  
Bones looked at him as if trying to gauge whether Jim was joking, but Jim only shook his head.   
  
"Sorry, but it's true."   
  
"Huh."   
  
Bones took a few steps towards the open hatch.   
  
"Ironically, we met on one."   
  
Bones stopped and turned around. "We did?"   
  
And for the first time, Jim had the feeling that Bones _wanted_ to know something, that he was interested in a piece of their mutual history. It was a boost he hadn't even known he needed, and Jim was glad to be finally able to tell Bones something about them.   
  
"Yeah. The shuttle that took the new Starfleet recruits from Iowa to San Francisco. You wanted to lock yourself in the bathroom for the flight."   
  
Bones shook his head. "I didn't."   
  
"Yes," Jim laughed. "Trust me, you did. A security officer forced you out and you ended up sitting next to me. Your first words to me were ' _I may throw up on you'_."   
  
Again, Bones waited for the punch line that didn't come, and he finally turned away with a shake of his head. "Sounds like a great start for a relationship."   
  
Jim shrugged. "Worked for us. Probably because you didn't make good on the threat."   
  
Bones hook his head and turned towards the shuttle's hatch. Jim didn't know where the sudden interest came from, but he watched as Bones carefully climbed up the steps and entered the shuttle. He didn't climb in completely, just kept one hand on the handhold and leaned in from the top step, head turning slowly as he took a look around the interior. Five seconds passed, then ten, and Jim was starting to wonder what was so interesting in an ordinary shuttle. But just as he was about to suggest that they took a look at something else, Bones' shoulders suddenly stiffened. It was an abrupt change, one that signaled alarm, and even though Jim had no idea what could have caused it, his feet moved without thinking – towards Bones, and between him and whatever threat he might have perceived.   
  
But just as Jim reached the hatch, Bones turned around. This close, his eyes were wide, pupils blown wide inside his hazel irises.   
  
"Bones?" Jim asked, completely forgetting about his promise not to use the nickname anymore.   
  
"There was blood on your shirt, wasn't there?"   
  
Bones sounded breathless, completely surprised and overwhelmed, but Jim didn't understand what he was talking about.   
  
"What?"   
  
"When we met, on that shuttle. There was blood on your shirt."   
  
Jim's throat felt tight as he tried to draw a breath, and his heart was suddenly beating furiously in his chest.   
  
"Yes," he croaked out. "Yes, there was." 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**  
  
It wasn't a breakthrough.  
  
Of course things couldn't be that easy.  
  
Jim looked into Bones' wide and hopeful eyes after he rasped out those words in Shuttlebay, and for a second Jim believed that this was it. Bones' memory back, just like that, as if whatever cruel joker had taken it had returned it with a snap of their omnipotent fingers.  
  
It wasn't like that. Real life was no holo-movie, and if there was a happy ending in store for them here, it was still a long way coming.  
  
Bones didn't remember everything he had lost, no matter how hard Jim clutched at his shoulders at the mention of the bloody shirt he had been wearing at their first meeting. That small spark of hope that flared up inside of him at that moment was crushed as soon as the initial excitement calmed down.  
  
Scotty called M'Benga to Shuttlebay without Jim or Bones even noticing, and before Jim knew what was happening, they were back in Medical, with M'Benga hovering above Bones' biobed, scanning and performing tests.  
  
The results were sobering.  
  
Bones still had no clue who he was, or about anything else about his life save for the past two days. His memories hadn't come rushing back in one big flood. The only thing he did remember now that he hadn't before was that image of Jim, aboard the shuttle Bones didn't remember ever boarding. Just that. An image, nothing more than a freeze-frame of Jim in a leather jacket, blood on his grey shirt and cuts and bruises on his face. Nothing more.  
  
But to Bones it was something he latched on to like a drowning man would to a floating log. It was a _memory_ , something he hadn't remembered before, and he barely seemed to be listening as M'Benga declared it a perfectly normal occurrence, the slow start of what might very well be his memory returning bit by bit. Instead, Bones was watching Jim as if he was seeing him in a new light, or as if more memories might come rushing back if he only looked at him for long enough.  
  
It was disconcerting to be scrutinized like that, but to Jim it also felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. The first memory had come back to Bones, so it was only reasonable to assume that everything else wouldn't be far behind, right? Bones still didn't remember much (or anything, really) about his life, but at least now he remembered Jim on his own.  
  
This one random memory seemed to break down a number of barriers.  
  
Before, Bones had been told that he knew Jim, that they were married even. But he had approached that thought wary at best. It seemed that only now that he remembered something on his own, a memory that wasn't told to him by someone else but came from himself, that he allowed himself to believe, at least a little.  
  
There was no show of trust, they most certainly weren't at that point yet. But for the first time since the start of this nightmare Bones seemed interested, and he no longer acted as if Jim's mere presence was oppressive.  
  
It was a step.  
  
And it was the reason why later that day, after the end of Bones' first shift back on light duty, Jim and Bones ended up eating dinner in the mess hall. They went late to avoid the after-shift rush since groups of people was still something Bones shied away from. But with mess hall relatively empty and their table secluded in a corner of the room, Bones seemed more comfortable than he had over the entire past two days. He even nodded his head in greeting at an Ensign who was eating her dinner as they entered mess hall, and before Jim could even ask he saw the bandage on the young woman's arm and realized she had to be one of the patients Bones had treated that afternoon.  
  
Seemed like M'Benga had been right, even though Jim didn't want to admit it out loud. Getting Bones back into his normal rhythm might not help bring his memory back faster, but at least it prevented that he isolated himself from the crew and his co-workers.  
  
They got their food and sat down at that isolated table in the corner, and to Jim it felt like he was having dinner with a completely different version of Bones than the one he had eaten breakfast with that morning.  
  
He talked to Jim. He asked questions. He _genuinely_ wanted to know more about his own life, and Jim's, and their relationship. And even though Jim knew that the interest was all just because Bones hoped that something, some minor detail, would trigger another memory, he couldn't help but revel in the feeling of finally talking to Bones again. He could nearly pretend that it was _his_ Bones he was talking to, even if the answers Jim could give still strayed on that thin line between truth and lie.  
  
"So you got recruited for Starfleet after you got into a _bar fight_?"  
  
Jim shrugged and speared a piece of meatloaf onto his fork, but couldn't stop a smile from creeping on his face.  
  
"Pretty much, yes. I drove around for the entire night and thought about it, but then I figured I had nothing to lose. So I drove straight to Riverside Spaceport and took that shuttle. Turns out it was pretty much the best decision I ever made."  
  
And that wasn't even a lie. Getting on that shuttle had been the best decision in his life. He might not have met his future husband there, but he had met the best friend he could have ever wished for, and his career at Starfleet had been the start of something really good for his life.  
  
Jim shook his head and speared another piece of meatloaf.  
  
"Anyway, we met on that shuttle, and I guess the criminal offender from Iowa who looked like he had walked into a wall and the slightly drunk, aviophobic doctor from Georgia were the two cadets who didn't quite fit with all the others. We stood out, so we stuck together."  
  
"And fell in love."  
  
The lie would be a lot easier to handle if Bones didn't sound so disbelieving about it. Jim swallowed a bite of meatloaf that could have used some more chewing and barely suppressed a cough before he answered.  
  
"We became friends first. Best friends."  
  
Bones raised one eyebrow in what Jim had come to know as a gesture of skepticism.  
  
"So when did it change?"  
  
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. It just…changed. You know, over time."  
  
It had been M'Benga's instruction to keep the necessary lies at a minimum, and to keep as vague as possible about the things they could not help but lie about. Yet that was a lot easier said than done when faced with Bones who, in his current state wanted nothing more than straight answers.  
  
But whether or not Bones was able to see through the imprecise reply, he only shrugged in acknowledgment. Jim was so relieved that he stabbed his fried potatoes with more force than absolutely necessary.  
  
"Don't eat that!" Bones snapped without a word of forewarning, his hand going out as if to slap the fork out of Jim's hand, but stopped himself mid-movement, hand hovering halfway between his own plate and Jim's hand.  
  
"Wha…why did I do that?"  
  
Bones seemed genuinely confused about his own behavior, and Jim himself was startled enough that it took a moment for him to recover enough for coherent speech.  
  
"You always do that."  
  
Bones finally lowered his hand, eyes still fixed on the fried potatoes on Jim's fork.  
  
"What, slap the food out of your hand? Is that normal for me?"  
  
Jim shrugged, letting the fork sink down on his plate, but his heart started beating faster in his chest.  
  
"Do you remember anything?"  
  
Jim hated that it sounded almost eager, but he couldn't help it. He wanted for Bones' memory to come back as fast as possible. Bones shook his head, the bewildered expression still on his face.  
  
"I don't think so. I…I just saw those things on your fork and I kept thinking about cholesterol and clogged arteries, and that you really shouldn't eat that. Are you trying to tell me that I do these things often?"  
  
"Well, you normally don't slap food out of my hands, no. Mostly you just grumble and lecture about how a grown man shouldn't eat frosted cereal, that salad is healthy and bacon will kill you in a thousand different slow and painful ways. Occasionally you force me to eat an apple or put some obligatory greens on my plate. You hardly ever resort to slapping something out of my hands that's already halfway to my mouth, though."  
  
Bones still seemed slightly perturbed by those news, and even a little bit disgusted with himself.  
  
"We're one of those couples who pick around on each other's plates? Seriously?"  
  
Jim shrugged. "Not really, no. As I said, it's mostly grumbling and lectures on your part."  
  
Bones' answer to that statement was only silence, and he stared down at the broccoli on his plate in silent brooding. Jim tried to give him some time to put that newly acquired piece of knowledge about himself time to settle, but the longer the silence lasted, the more nervous Jim found he was getting. The brooding frown deepened, and finally Jim couldn't stand the silence for any longer.  
  
"Bones?"  
  
It took a few seconds, and Jim immediately realized his mistake.  
  
"Leonard. What's wrong?"  
  
Bones looked up and shook his head. "Nothing. It's just…that seems to be a theme with me."  
  
Now it was Jim's turn to frown. "What?"  
  
"Grouching. Complaining about things, and what others do. Name-calling. That kind of stuff."  
  
Jim couldn't quite keep up with that.  
  
"What? Where's all that coming from?"  
  
Bones shrugged, listlessly shoving his vegetables around his plate.  
  
"I don't know. But there's what Scott said earlier, about how I could call him Scotty despite all the berating and name-calling. Then there's this." He waved his hands over their plates to demonstrate what he was talking about. "And earlier, when I was on duty there were two Ensigns from Engineering who came in with minor burns and seemed almost afraid to be treated by me. And while I was treating Ensign Parker, she kept looking at me as if she was only waiting for me to explode at her. Later on Geoffrey told me that she was probably waiting for me to berate her for getting burnt in the first place." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Seems like my bedside manner isn't the friendliest, and now it seems I'm grumbling and complaining not only when I'm on duty."  
  
Bones – the normal Bones, the one who still knew who the hell he was – had no problems at all with his own attitude. He knew who he was, and how to deal with the people in his life. The Bones Jim was used to dealing with wasn't so insecure about whether or not his traits made him a good person. He knew when it mattered to be polite, and he knew that everyone aboard the ship was very much aware of the soft core that was hiding behind the grumpy exterior.  
  
But this wasn't that Bones. This was a Bones who was trying to find out who he was, and admittedly his normal behavior had to appear somewhat harsh to him now. But Jim wasn't going to let Bones belittle himself, not when he knew that Bones was so much more than just the cantankerous man he projected to the outside world.  
  
"Well, that's not all there is to you. Definitely not."  
  
Bones shrugged, dropping his knife and fork onto his plate and pushing the cold food away from him.  
  
"That doesn't sound reassuring."  
  
"What do you want me to say? Yes, grumpy is your default setting, on the job and often in private life as well. But it's the good kind of grumpy."  
  
Bones snorted mirthlessly. "There's a good kind of grumpy?"  
  
"Yes. You're not a mean curmudgeon, Bo…Leonard. But you don't suffer fools lightly, and when you think someone is behaving like an idiot, you tell them they're an idiot. I should know, I'm on the receiving end of that more often than anybody else on board. But you're honest. If someone comes in with injuries that could have been avoided, you don't hold back with your opinion on that. Which is why most of Engineering and Security staff is a little afraid to go to Sickbay with minor injuries, because they know they're going to get a lecture to go along with the treatment. But there's nothing wrong with that, and they know it. Everyone aboard knows that if they really need your help with something, they're going to get it no questions asked. You just don't hold back when you think someone's being a moron about something, but that can actually be a good thing."  
  
Bones still didn't seem convinced, but Jim didn't know how else to explain without this turning into a bout of praising which Bones would believe him even less.  
  
"So I'm _the good kind of grumpy_ because I'm honest. That's…that's weird, Jim."  
  
"You're grumpy because you're not someone who wears his heart on his sleeve and would rather grouch and grumble about something than admit that you're pleased. You're grumpy because you're a slight bit paranoid about all the ways one can get sick, injured, or die out here in space. You don't believe in mollycoddling people when they should have known better than to get themselves injured. But you're one of the most loyal and reliable people aboard, and the crew know that. Besides, you're a great doctor, so you can afford being a little grouchy towards people who make your life unnecessarily difficult. The main thing is that the people here respect you, and they know that the grumpy exterior isn't all there is to you, not by a long shot. Your friends know it." Jim waited before Bones caught his gaze. " _I_ know it."  
  
Bones looked at Jim for a long moment, just looked at him as if he had expected anything but those words in this situation. Jim saw his Adam's apple bop up and down as he swallowed heavily.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Jim smiled at his friend, glad that for once he had been given the chance to give Bones some reassurance, however small it might have been. He didn't know if this was the right moment to add another possible source of confusion to Bones' state, but to be honest he no longer knew when the right moment was for anything. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the wedding ring that had been stashed away there since Scotty had given it to him the previous evening.  
  
"I…well, I don't know if you've been wondering where this went, but I thought you might want this back."  
  
He pushed the ring across the table, and Bones stared at it for a few seconds before he carefully picked it up.  
  
"My wedding ring?"  
  
Jim nodded. "Must have gotten knocked off during the accident."  
  
He should be keeping a tally of all the lies he was telling his friend, but in all honesty Jim was too afraid of what the sum might look like in the end. Bones kept twisting and turning the ring between his fingers, finally turning it so that he could read the inscription on the inside. When he looked at Jim again, there was a slight smile playing around the corners of his lips.  
  
"So it's just Jim, huh?"  
  
Jim smiled. "James, actually. But nobody ever calls me that other than my mother or a chosen few Starfleet Admirals, and both only if they're giving me a stern telling off. I've always gone by Jim."  
  
"James Kirk."  
  
Well, he could as well reveal the whole extend of his naming right now, it wasn't as if it was some sort of big secret, anyway.  
  
"James _Tiberius_ Kirk."  
  
Bones pulled a face. "Ouch."  
  
"Yeah, you could say that."  
  
"Grandfather?"  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
Bones shrugged. "Nobody in their right mind would name a child _Tiberius_ if it wasn't for a grandfather or another relative by that name. And I didn't want to assume the worst about my in-laws right away, so I went with the grandfather. Still, that sucks."  
  
Jim laughed. "You're one to talk, Leonard _Horatio_ McCoy."  
  
The look on Bones' face told Jim clearly that the other man hadn't taken the time to look at his own file so far.  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"I'm not, sorry." Jim didn't feel sorry at all. "So you shouldn't be joking about my middle name if yours is just as bad, if not worse."  
  
Bones looked as if he wanted to throw up. "Grandfather?" He asked.  
  
"Yup. Paternal, as far as I know."  
  
"I'll just stick with Leonard, thanks a lot."  
  
Bones regarded the ring in his hands for a few moments longer, then he slid it over the ring-finger of his left hand. Jim held his breath in anticipation, hoping that Scotty's judgment of Bones' ring size was as accurate as the one for his own ring. But the ring slid smoothly over Bones' knuckle. A little too smoothly maybe, the ring seemed a little too wide, but at least that would give credibility to the story that the ring had slid off Bones' finger in the shuttle crash.  
  
Bones twisted the ring a little, as unused to its weight on his finger as Jim had been the day before, but eventually he let go and looked up at Jim again.  
  
"There's no date."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"In the ring. There's no wedding date engraved in it, just our names."  
  
Jim's pulse sped up as he frantically searched his brain for a proper way to reply to that. What did Bones expect to hear? They hadn't engraved a date because that had been one detail they hadn't decided on a specific lie about, but that was hardly something he could tell Bones right now, was it? But what other answer could he give that would stop Bones from asking any follow-up questions Jim was just as unprepared to answer.  
  
"We didn't want that. So we just settled on the names."  
  
Bones nodded, but the frown was still on his face. "So when was it? The wedding, I mean. For how long have we been married?"  
  
That question had come with an obvious advance warning, but still Jim felt completely thrown aback by it. Damn it, what was he supposed to say? How old was this alleged marriage? Jim had to think of something that was going to make sense, and at best something that was going to explain the lack of wedding pictures right along with it. But what?  
  
"February 20th." Jim had absolutely no idea where that date came from. They had been on shore leave the second half of February, that was the only time Jim could think of when they had left the ship without being on some sort of official mission. There were no detailed records about what each crewmember had done during their shore leave, so it was probably the best lie he could come up with in the short amount of time that he had to actually think about it.  
  
"We married on February 20th this year. We…we didn't want to get married on the ship, so we waited until we were on shore leave."  
  
Bones looked at Jim for a long moment before he nodded.  
  
"February 20th. Guess I'd better keep that date in mind then."  
  
Jim laughed, and he thought that even if Bones wasn't scrutinizing his reactions closely he had to hear the relieved undertone to that. But if he did, he didn't let it on.  
  
"You'd better, yes."  
  
Another mine Jim had managed to maneuver around without blowing it up, although it had been a lot more due to luck than any navigation skills on his part. But right now, he was going to take whatever mercies he could. Bones was undoubtedly going to blow up about this whole thing once he had his memory back, that was a thought Jim had to get used to, anyway. He only had to stop his friend from catching him in a lie until then. Only that. Things were going to get back to normal soon enough.  
  
It sounded far too easy even to Jim's own ears, too easy to really be true, but still Jim clung to that thought with desperation. He only had to keep a lid on things until Bones had his memory back. Only that.  
  
They were done with their dinner, and Jim quickly got up to take away his tray before Bones could think about asking any more questions Jim didn't have an answer to.  
  
The rest of the evening passed quickly enough. Apparently, being on light duty didn't mean Jim was having to do any less paperwork. He settled at his desk – well, the small contraption that had replaced his usual desk, anyway – and started working his way through PADDs and reports. Bones settled at his own desk with some paperwork of his own, and Jim had to admit that this was…pleasant. Somehow. He didn't feel crowded by Bones' proximity, but somehow it was good to know that the other man was there, and he only needed to look up to reassure himself of it. Maybe it was the fact that Jim was used to being around Bones, but it scared him a little how easily he settled into this fake domestic bliss. They worked in comfortable silence, and when Jim got up to get himself a coffee he made two cups without thinking about it, spooning sugar into one and silently putting the other on Bones' side of the desk as he sat back down. And Bones picked it up and took a sip with a small nod of acknowledgment, as if this was their normal evening routine.  
  
It was like cramming for finals back at the Academy, just without the pressure of the exams, and with wedding rings on their fingers, and for some reason it scared the crap out of Jim.  
  
When Jim was finished with the last of the day's reports, he put the PADD down with a small sigh. Looking up, he found Bones was still engrossed in whatever it was he was reading, the hand holding his cup of coffee hovering halfway to his mouth as he looked at his PADD with a frown on his face. Jim leaned back with a smile.  
  
"What are you reading?"  
  
Bones looked up, and for a second he seemed startled at the cup that was hovering an inch or two away from his mouth. Putting it down with an expression as if the cup had greatly offended him, he straightened up and rubbed at his eyes.  
  
"Just old medical files from the past two years. Cases I treated. Geoffrey thought I should try and see if any of the more unusual cases and treatments trigger anything. And seriously, this crew has no lack of unusual cases, that much I can tell you."  
  
Jim smiled. "Yeah. But we have a great doctor who always puts us back together."  
  
Bones snorted. "Yeah, right. And apparently y'all rely on it so much that this entire crew gets more and more careless."  
  
"So, is it helping?"  
  
Jim's answer was a shrug. "Not really. With the ordinary cases, it doesn't take a genius to guess the right treatment. And with the strange ones, I see that the treatment makes sense in the end, but it's not like I remember that I came up with it."  
  
"It's going to come back", Jim said, even though he didn't know who he was trying to reassure – Bones or himself. Bones only nodded, but his face had closed off again. Jim hated it, hated that Bones withdrew again and there was nothing he could do against it. He wanted his Bones back, the one who knew how to take Jim's sometimes completely inane comments, then one who knew when to laugh about something he had said and when to take it seriously.  
  
It couldn't take long. Bones had to get his memory back, there was no other alternative Jim was willing to accept.   
  
They finished up their remaining work in silence, and mentally Jim was already unwinding, preparing to leave the day behind and take the fact that Bones had regained a bit of his memory, however small, as a success in a day that had started extremely awkward, then had brought them closer, only to make Bones withdraw from him again in the evening. Definitely a mixed day, not a good one by a long shot, but one with at least a small silver lining. Tomorrow could only get better.  
  
Jim only realized that this day still had one big issue left for them to deal with when both he and Bones had cleared away their work and got ready to settle for the night.  
  
"I'll sleep on the sofa," Jim said after a few long moments during which both of them had stared quite uncomfortably at the bed. The memory of the previous morning was still too fresh in Jim's mind, and he most certainly didn't want to put Bones through a repeat performance. But, much to his surprise, Bones shook his head.  
  
"No. You don't have to sleep there on my account."  
  
"What happened this morning…"  
  
Bones interrupted him before Jim could continue.  
  
"What happened this morning took me by surprise. And I overreacted. But that doesn't mean…" He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Unless you're too uncomfortable, there's no need to change anything about our sleeping arrangements. It's how we always sleep, and we're not gonna change that just because right now my brain is all screwed to hell."  
  
It seemed to cost him a lot to bring out the words, and Jim found he could only nod. "Okay."  
  
Bones answered that nod with one of his own. "Good. I mean, we're two grown men, and, being married and all, I think we're going to manage sharing a bed."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Right."  
  
Had this been a scene in a holo-vid, Jim might have been laughing his head off at the awkwardness of it all. But this was no movie, it was his own frigging life, and Jim had never felt as uncomfortable before as he did now, when they both took turns in the bathroom to change and get ready for the night.  
  
It had been a lot easier the previous night, when Bones had already been asleep by the time Jim had dropped into bed on the brink of exhaustion. There hadn't been time to think about how awkward this was when it shouldn't be awkward at all – Jim felt comfortable around Bones, comfortable enough to sleep in the same bed without thinking twice about it. But not as a married couple, and with a Bones who didn't remember that close proximity shouldn't be an issue between them.  
  
Not like _this_.  
  
Jim hugged the right side of the bed as he extinguished the light and the room settled into darkness around them. On the other side of the bed Bones was clinging just as rigorously to his own side of the bed. But despite the lateness of the hour, sleep wouldn't come. Jim lay there in the darkness, listening to Bones' breathing. It was slow and regular, but too tense to signal relaxed sleep for him, either.  
  
On any other night where sleep was hard to come, Jim would have tossed and turned in bed in search for a comfortable position, but right now he barely dared to move because every time he did, he heard and felt Bones stiffen to his left. So Jim lay back, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. In the end, he closed his eyes and recited Starfleet regulations in his head until he drifted off to sleep from the sheer boredom of it.  
  
Once he finally was asleep, Jim slept through the entire night without a single disturbance. When he woke up though, it wasn't to the sound of the alarm blaring at him, but once more to an insistent tugging on his right arm.  
  
"Jim!"  
  
Slowly, he blinked awake, and it took him a moment to make sense of the position he found himself in. Bones was still lying as close to the left side of the bed as possible, stretched out on his back, and at some point during the night Jim had attached himself to his side. He had one leg thrown over Bones', his head was pillowed on Bones' shoulder and his arm was wrapped around the other man's middle. Bones was trying to dislodge the arm and the leg, his movements just on this side of throwing Jim off of him, and after a second or two of wondering what the hell all this was about his brain finally caught up with the fact that he was awake.  
  
Awake, and cuddled up to Bones.  
  
"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry."  
  
It was a lie, and that alone was food for thought. He wasn't really sorry. He was comfortable, and wanted nothing more than to go right back to sleep curled up around Bones as he was. That was something else to gnaw on later, but for now the proximity was too much for Bones, which meant that Jim had better move before this got any more awkward. Jim gave himself another moment, just a second more of pressing up against Bones' warmth and breathing him in before he untangled himself and turned towards the other side of the bed.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay, Jim."  
  
Only it wasn't. It wasn't okay because Jim had no idea why he wanted this all of a sudden. He had never been particularly distant when it came to casual touches or the concept of personal space, but he had never before wanted to be this close to the other man. Friends could invade each other's personal space on occasion, but friends didn't cling or cuddle like that. Friends were people who hung out with each other, not people who woke up tangled around one another with the feeling that there was nothing better in the entire world than the feeling of this.  
  
Jim had never wanted that before, so why did it suddenly feel so insanely good and _right_ to wake up right next to Bones every morning? And why did it feel like a letdown every time Bones pushed him away?  
  
Jim really didn't want to contemplate the reasons for that any further. It was as if Bones' amnesia hadn't just screwed up his own life, but also a big part of Jim's, too. Things that had been firm and irrevocable in his life suddenly looked completely different, as if one hard blow to Bones' head had upset everything Jim had ever believed in.  
  
Sleep was out the question now that he allowed himself to brood about these things. He couldn't tell if Bones had gone back to sleep, but Jim couldn't fall asleep again. The bed suddenly seemed uncomfortable and too big, and it was too cold without a warm body to curl up around. Jim gave it ten minutes, but then he admitted that it was a lost cause and rolled out of bed. Might as well get up and get an early start on the day.  
  
They settled into a rhythm, one that was scarily easy to fall into. They had breakfast together each morning, they both did the respective tasks that were demanded of them while on light duty, and the time that they didn't spend doing that, Jim tried to hang around Bones without seeming clingy. But it was what M'Benga had told him to do, right? That's why he had been put on light duty to begin with, so that he could be around Bones. And so that was what Jim did, always trying to stay on this side of crowding the other man with his presence. They had dinner together in the evening, and then awkwardly settled into bed where it took Jim far too long to fall asleep. And he really needed to talk to the Quartermaster, because apparently his mattress sagged in the middle. Every morning, Jim would find himself pressed up against Bones, who was in some way trying to extract himself from Whatever position Jim had wrapped them in. So each day started somewhat awkwardly, but they just dealt with it like men – they disentangled themselves and never talked about it afterwards.  
  
It wasn't optimal, but it worked. Oh, it didn't work in the one way that mattered – Bones' memories didn't come back. That was the frustrating part about it. Jim didn't know what it took to trigger the return of a memory, but apparently domestic bliss with a dash of work thrown in wasn't going to do the trick.  
  
They talked a lot, about Bones' life, their time at the Academy and aboard Enterprise. Jim could tell that Bones wanted to hear those stories, that his friend was just as desperately hoping for some random thing to trigger his memory to come back, but it was with a lot of hesitation that Jim told him these stories. Every time they talked, he was worried Bones was going to ask him questions he'd rather not answer; questions that would force him to make up yet another lie.  
  
It was a carefully constructed equilibrium that held them together, and Jim could only hope that it was steady enough to hold up until this whole nightmare was over.  
  
It worked on the first day, when the visit to Shuttlebay made Bones remember meeting Jim.  
  
It worked on the second day, when there was no remarkable progress concerning Bones' memories, but when at least no other setbacks happened.  
  
It went to hell in a handbasket on the third day, and Jim had no idea how the hell it happened. All he knew was that something about their careful interactions and the fragile balance between them was seriously screwed up.  
  
On the third day, Bones kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**  
  
  
Three days weren't enough to make up a routine, not by a long shot. Nevertheless, what Jim and Bones had settled into since he had lost his memory felt like a routine, despite the short time. A routine that consisted of a workload that was nowhere near their normal amount, coupled with shared meals, shared conversations and a shared bed. Parts of the routine felt awkward, but it was a routine nevertheless.  
  
Until Bones broke it.  
  
Honestly, Jim had no idea how it happened.  
  
They had both been on duty during alpha shift, still on the same shift rotation thanks to M'Benga's interference with their working schedule. Then there had been lunch in the mess hall and some paperwork for Bones while Jim read through Spock's latest reports about negotiations with the Nibilians. All part of the routine.  
  
And because it was also part of the routine that Jim didn't want to crowd Bones with his constant presence, he spent an hour in the gym that afternoon. It was all perfectly normal, or as normal as things could possibly be in their current situation.  
  
Jim had no clue what triggered it.  
  
One moment, they were sitting on the sofa in his – _their_ quarters, arguing to and fro whether it wouldn't be better if the Head of the Science Department signed off on supply requests from Medical instead of the Captain. Bones questioning things he had simply accepted before was one of the few interesting turns his sudden amnesia had brought. Not that he had forgotten any of the standard procedures that his position required. No, Bones still remembered those very well; it was only his personal life he had forgotten about. But it seemed as if with no memory of his previous opinion, he was more prone to question things he had simply accepted before.  
  
It was an interesting development, and admittedly Jim had been distracted for a second. How could he not have been, when Bones effectively argued in favor of Spock going over each and every of his medical requests to assess their necessity instead of Jim just signing them off. There was teasing material for well over a month in there once Bones had his memory back.  
  
So, one moment they argued good-naturedly about some rules and regulations they had never questioned before, and the next moment everything was turned upside down.  
  
Jim laughed about something Bones had said, something insignificant that he couldn't even remember later on, and when he looked up he found Bones looking right back at him. There was a fragment of a second during which Bones visibly seemed to steel himself, and suddenly he leaned closer and pressed his lips to Jim's.  
  
Jim was so stunned that he didn't move for a second. He couldn't. For that one moment, his whole perception was reduced to the feeling of Bones' lips against his. It was a chaste kiss, just the soft press of dry lips against Jim's own. It wasn't as if Bones was trying to ravage him or anything, but still suddenly Jim's heart was beating frantically in his chest and after it reported back from its temporary freeze, Jim's brain frantically tried to come up with anything besides _Bones_ , _how_ , _why_ and _What the hell?_.  
  
Jim had no clue what to do, or how to possibly react, but before he was forced to come up with a response that wouldn't cause all hell to break loose, Bones broke the kiss just as abruptly as he had initiated it.  
  
Immediately, he moved back on the sofa, eyes wide as he was looking at Jim.  
  
"I…god Jim, I'm sorry, I didn't…"  
  
Jim's brain still wasn't working properly, too hung up on the fact that Bones had just kissed him and too busy trying to figure out what to do with that information, but for some reason that didn't stop his mouth from acting on its own volition.  
  
"Bones, calm down."  
  
But it was as if Bones hadn't even heard him. He was shaking his head the way he always did when he was inwardly berating himself for something, and that small gesture was so reminiscent of how things were supposed to be that something inside of him clenched painfully.  
  
"It was a stupid idea," Bones continued to babble, the most stupid spur of the moment thing I could come up with, and I don't even know if I'm a spur of the moment kinda guy. But damn it, I have no damn clue what I can do to make my memory come back. And it worked, when you told me about the shuttle and we went down into the hangar. I remembered then, so I thought…" He ran his hand over his face with a weary sigh. "Forget it. It was stupid."  
  
And suddenly, Jim understood.  
  
"You thought you'd remember something about us if you kissed me."  
  
It hadn't been a question, but still Bones nodded. "Yeah. I know it was stupid. I'm sorry."  
  
It hadn't been stupid. It had been a pretty sound plan as far as Jim could tell, only that Bones had it all wrong and was trying to remember something that wasn't even real. He could keep kissing Jim until they both turned blue in the face, it still wouldn't make him remember a marriage that didn't exist.  
  
Damn it.  
  
"It wasn't. But…I guess it just doesn't work that way. Hell if I know how it does, but apparently not like that."  
  
Bones sighed again, and he still wasn't meeting Jim's eyes.  
  
"I didn't think, okay? But, I mean we're married. So it shouldn't be that far off to think that kissing you might be something I remember. We must have done it hundreds of times before, right? And ever since this whole mess started, things have been completely upside down for you, too."  
  
Jim didn't like where this conversation was going. Not at all.  
  
"So what? You were offering yourself up so that I could satisfy my needs? Because if that's what you meant, you'd better stop right there."  
  
Bones shook his head, fingers moving to tiredly pinch the bridge of his nose.  
  
"No. But you can't tell me that it's easy for you, going from being happily married to living with someone who doesn't even remember you."  
  
If Jim had needed any proof that Bones was still somewhere in there, any kind of proof that whether it was nature or nurture, not even amnesia could completely erase Bones' personality. Bones was always too fucking damn worried about everybody but himself.  
  
"This isn't about me, Bones." He shook his head as he realized his slip-up. "Leonard. Because if it were, _this_ wouldn't happen all the time. I wouldn't bite my tongue every time I call you by the name I've used ever since we met. You're the one who lost his memory, so you'd better get used to the idea that until you get it back, the whole damn universe revolves around you as far as I'm concerned. So don't worry about what you think _I_ want, expect or need from you. That's not what this is about."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"And please, stop apologizing."  
  
Jim really didn't want to launch into a tirade of what Bones was supposed to do and what not. It was the last thing on his mind. But this was _Bones_ , for whom an apology normally consisted of a barely understandable grumble and an offer of bourbon, which was just fucking _fine_ with Jim. Especially since Bones only apologized in the rare cases when he had really been in the wrong about something, and not for things he simply didn't remember. But still, his words sounded harsh even to his own ears, and he quickly tried to take out any potential sting.  
  
"So you're reacting differently than you normally do. No big surprise since you can't remember how you normally react to things. But you know what? It's okay. You don't need to apologize for that. But you don't need to kiss me just because you think I'm expecting you to, either. That's not going to happen, not until you have your memory back and really want this. Okay?"  
  
Bones didn't react for a few long seconds, but eventually he nodded and finally looked up at Jim.  
  
"Okay."  
  
By the time Jim realized what he had just said, it was already too late to take it back, or try to turn it into something different with a few smoothly placed words. He could only hope that this wasn't going to be the one thing Bones was going to hold against him once this whole thing blew over.  
  
"Good."  
  
The line of Bones' shoulders sagged a little. It was nowhere near what Jim would call relaxed yet, but it was a step in the right direction.  
  
Bones seemed to be thinking hard about something, and for once Jim didn't push but instead went against his instincts and waited silently until Bones had weighed whatever internal struggle he was currently fighting out. He didn't have to wait long; and he was glad that the silence didn't stretch uncomfortably long.  
  
"Are we even…" he shook his head as if that start had been all wrong. "Earlier, I just assumed. When I said you went from happily married to a husband who didn't even remember you. But I don't even know if we're that. I mean, we've only been married a couple of months, but I guess that doesn't have to mean anything."  
  
And despite the fact that Bones was mostly talking nonsense, Jim thought he knew exactly what he wanted to know.  
  
"You want to know if we're happy?"  
  
Bones laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah, I guess I do."  
  
It was incredibly hard to wrap that answer into the smallest possible lie, because this was one thing Jim didn't want to lie to Bones about. Didn't think he had, to, either, even if he was referring to something else entirely.  
  
"We're good. Really good."  
  
Bones seemed to relax a slight bit more at that, just as if the state of their marriage was something he had been wondering about for a while now. And Jim thought that it hadn't even been a lie, not really. He and Bones were good. Just not in the romantic sense Bones was assuming, but that still didn't make it a lie. They were as good as they could get.  
  
"And in case you were wondering, you're not a spur of the moment kinda guy."  
  
Bones looked up, both eyebrows raised. "I'm not?"  
  
Jim shook his head with a laugh. "No. In fact, if there is something like the exact opposite of a spur of the moment kinda guy, it's you. You never leap before you look. In fact, you'd never leap into an unknown situation if you didn't know at least three different and painful ways in which it could get you hurt, maimed, or killed."  
  
Bones' expression shifted into a slight frown, but Jim quickly shook his head.  
  
"And it's good that way. You're the reasonable one in this outfit, you know? I do enough of that leaping before looking shit for the both of us. And you're the one who keeps me grounded, and holds me back when I'm being stupid. You're one of the few who actually tells me when I'm feeling stupid. It's one of the reasons why…"  
  
 _I love you._  
  
"…we work out so well," Jim finished, struggling against the sudden lump in his throat.  
  
"That works out for us?"  
  
Jim nodded with a smile. "Yeah, it does."  
  
"Okay."  
  
It seemed to settle something for Bones, and Jim guessed it was all he could ask for under the circumstances. It was still awkward, with that sudden and unexpected kiss just a few minutes in the past, but Jim didn't see any other choice but to take it in stride and hope for the best.  
  
Their conversation didn't pick up again, though, not the way it had been before that had made it nearly possible to forget that something as big as that memory-loss was standing between them. But even though they had successfully steered around that particular cliff, Bones withdrew from him once more. They exchanged a few more words, but a little over half an hour later Bones claimed fatigue and went to bed.  
  
If he was honest with himself, this was one night where Jim would have preferred to sleep on the sofa instead of the bed, but he knew he couldn't do that. Not when it would seem like a sign of rejection when he had spent the past half hour trying to convince Bones that nothing was further from his mind. Still, Jim thought that he'd be sending mixed signals if one minute he claimed not to want to force himself onto Bones only to wake up curled around him like the previous mornings.  
  
Truth be told, Jim was confused as hell.  
  
Not because Bones had kissed him.  
  
Well, not so much.  
  
Mostly, because Bones had _kissed_ him.  
  
And yeah, that didn't even make sense in his own head.  
  
But it was true. Jim wasn't confused because Bones had thought that kissing was normal between them. Jim's own lie was to blame for that, he most certainly wasn't going to push off any of that blame to the other man.  
  
But Bones had kissed him. For barely a second or two, and just a press of lips against lips. It hadn't been the kind of kiss that stopped time and made the violins start playing in his head. But Jim had made no move to stop Bones. And it hadn't felt strange, kissing Bones. It had been over quickly, and admittedly Jim's mind had been a little too busy being shocked and stunned at the sudden turn of events.  
  
But there was no denying it.  
  
He hadn't been averse to the idea of Bones kissing him. And it had nothing to do with the fact that their friendship was so close that physical proximity was no issue between them. Kissing crossed a line even for the closest friendship. And sitting here on the sofa in the silent room, Jim couldn't help but admit a few things to himself.  
  
He liked the idea of kissing Bones. Under different circumstances, and with Bones' memory intact, but still. He really liked the thought.  
  
And even though Bones had missed it earlier, Jim couldn't help but ponder how easily those three words had nearly slipped out. He nearly had told Bones that he loved him. And it wouldn't have been a lie, either.  
  
Jim sank back into the sofa with a sigh and tiredly rubbed at his eyes.  
  
He was so _screwed_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**  
  
  
Spontaneous kisses apparently fell into the same category as subconscious early morning cuddles – things that happened, things that neither Jim nor Bones really knew how to deal with, but things they stoically ignored and didn't talk about after they happened.  
  
And if there was a good thing about it all, then that Bones seemed that slight bit more relaxed around Jim after that kiss. Well, maybe not after the kiss as such, but after the conversation they had afterwards. And for that improvement, Jim was more than willing to accept the awkwardness that had come along with the unexpected kiss.  
  
Not that it made dealing with it any easier for Jim. Try as he might, he wasn't able to simply brush it off. He could gloss it over when there were others around – especially when Bones was around. But what was going on inside of his head was another story entirely.  
  
It was disconcerting, but not a realization he was able to push away very far. He and Bones had always been close, the way best friends were. There hadn't been many boundaries between them to begin with. Most certainly not physical ones when Bones had done nothing but patch Jim up over the past years, and not when Jim had seen Bones at some of his worst points and had helped him through them. And also not emotionally. They long since knew all the demons that lurked in the respective other's past, and how to steer around the ones that could never be dealt with.  
  
The thing was, Jim wasn't as uncomfortable about the thought of being married to Bones as he should be. Not anymore. And he didn't mind that Bones had kissed him. It were the circumstances of _how_ that kiss had happened that had been wrong, not the kiss as such.  
  
Jim had spent an entire pretty much sleepless night mulling those thoughts over and over in his head, but no matter how he twisted and turned it, it all came back to one thing.  
  
He might feel just a tad bit more than friendship for Bones, and that wasn't something that had only happened over the past couple of days. And it was okay, really, even if it were feelings Bones was never going to reciprocate. Because Bones was still his friend, and for as long as that was the case, Jim was sure he could deal with everything else.  
  
But not like this.  
  
Not when he had to pretend to be married to Bones, when suddenly his everyday-life involved things he hadn't even known he wanted as badly as he did, and this whole charade was giving him a glimpse of what he could never have. Because Bones didn't feel like this. Jim could never expect him to feel like this, especially not just because he thought he had to. That was why Jim felt so bad about that kiss, and that he had enjoyed it more than he should – Bones had given it under completely false assumptions, and that simply wouldn't do.  
  
So Jim was glad when alpha shift rolled around and they both went on their respective duties. The negotiations planetside were still coming along, smoothly but too slowly for Jim's liking. The Nibilians were willing to joining the Federation, but they weren't willing to spend all day long locked in negotiations. It wasn't in their nature or part of their social norms to negotiate about different points at once, so Spock needed to go through it all step by step. There were different protocols that had to be signed, different directives the Nibilians had to agree to, and each and every one of them had to be dealt with in a separate session. By the speed this was going by, they were going to be stuck in orbit for another week, maybe two.  
  
The only upside to it was that Spock wasn't required to remain on the surface for lengthy negotiations day in, day out. A few hours every day, nothing more. Of course, other crewmembers were planetside as well. The Nibilians didn't mind sharing insights into their culture and technology, and an active exchange of information and experience was taking place across all departments. The stellar cartographers were comparing databases with the Nibilians, samples of plant-life were brought aboard and the local fauna was added to the database, Scotty had been all but giddy about the request to beam down planetside with a team and join the Nibilians in some repairs to one of their power stations, and Uhura had been walking around with a smile on her face all week long that could only mean she had discovered at least a dozen different new dialects that needed to be analyzed and learned to perfection.  
  
But still, outside of the negotiations Spock had the time to be back aboard and resume command. Between Jim and Sulu, they had managed to make sure bridge shifts were covered at all times without the need to take Jim off light duty. And while Jim still felt as if he was pushing his responsibilities as a Captain off to Spock, it wasn't as if he could help it right now. And the Nibilians at least seemed to understand that Jim was unable to lead the negotiations with them right now. Their culture placed such a strong emphasis on marriage and family that, in Spock's words, they would have seen it as an insult if Jim had beamed down to lead negotiations despite the fact that his 'husband' was not well.  
  
Still, it felt wrong to be stuck here playing house when around him the real life was still revolving. During those few hours on duty Jim could at least pretend that everything was still the way it always was, even if his actual duties amounted to boring paperwork for the most part.  
Jim handed the conn over to Sulu at the end of his shift and was just contemplating whether to go visit Bones in Medical and drag him to an early dinner, when he received a call over the ship wide com.  
  
"McCoy to the Bridge."  
  
All eyes were on him, even though Jim had no idea why this was such an exceptional event. Bones commed the bridge all the time when he was on duty. And even if he hadn't done so since the shuttle accident, that didn't mean anything was going on that required any special attention, for crying out loud.  
  
Jim completely ignored the fact that he had handed over command to Sulu just a moment ago and slapped the button on the nearest comm console in response. Besides, it wasn't as if Sulu had made any move to answer Bones' call. If anybody asked him, the entire crew was too damn interested in this pretend marriage. Far more interested than they were supposed to be, in any case.  
  
"Kirk here."  
  
"Do you have a few moments to come down to Medical?"  
  
Well, that sounded ominous. "Sure. Anything wrong?"  
  
"Just something I need to run by you."  
  
"Sure. I'll be there in a few minutes. Kirk out."  
  
Jim deactivated the comm and walked towards the turbolift, aware that everyone on the bridge was still watching him. Up until now, Jim had only wanted this whole mess to be over for Bones' sake, but right now he couldn't stop the more selfish reasons from coming to the foreground. He didn't want to be under a fucking microscope for his entire crew to ogle. Just because everyone had to be aware of the situation didn't mean anybody had the right to watch, or to be interested in how Jim and Bones were dealing with what was going on. It was nobody's business but their own, damn it.  
  
Jim couldn't help the small sigh of relief that escaped when the turbolift doors closed and the lift started moving. He had no idea what Bones wanted from him. Though a small distant part of his brain couldn't give up the hope that maybe some of his memory had returned, he knew that Bones would have told him so over the comm. Or M'Benga would have called. He knew Bones wanted him in Medical for something that probably had nothing at all to do with his lost memory, but still. He couldn't help but get his hopes up.  
  
Medical seemed empty when Jim entered. The privacy screens were drawn around one of the beds, and Jim could hear M'Benga's deep voice speak from behind it, but Jim quickly directed his attention to the half-open office door at the end of the room, and the shadow of a blue shirt he could just about make out behind the desk.  
  
Jim knocked onto the glass panel of the door and stepped into the room just as Bones looked up. There was a weird expression on his face, one that Jim hadn't seen there before and couldn't quite place, and his heart sped up slightly in his chest.  
  
"You wanted to see me?"  
  
"Close the door, please."  
  
And even if the expression on Bones' face was unreadable, the tone of his voice was undeniably tense, hovering slightly on the edge of what Jim would call pissed off under normal circumstances. Something was definitely wrong here.  
  
Jim closed the door, suddenly feeling very self-conscious even though he had no idea why.  
  
"What's up?", he asked as he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Bones' desk.  
  
Bones drummed his fingers on the desktop, then he drew a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.  
  
"The patient load was light today, and Geoffrey was busy with Lieutenant Harper and his parasite problem. So I came here and went through some of my personal logs."  
  
For a second, the room fell completely silent.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Damn it, damn it, fucking _damn it_!  
  
They had thought about everything, about every frigging detail, but they had forgotten about Bones' personal log in all this mess. And of course the voice activation would recognize Bones' voice and grant him access to all the files he had recorded since the start of his duty as CMO aboard the Enterprise – files that didn't mention any relationship or even marriage with Jim. Jim had no idea what kind of recordings his friend made in his personal log, but if he was anything like Jim he'd use it to occasionally ramble about anything and nothing, and not only things that were related to his work. If he had discovered something that was going to blow up this whole lie about their marriage…  
  
Jim raised his eyebrows at Bones and tried to look interested and as nonchalant about it as possible, even though his heart was beating frantically and he thought he failed pretty thoroughly at keeping up a calm façade.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I made an interesting discovery, Jim. One I'd like you to listen to in person."  
  
Jim's heart was thudding away frantically by now, and he nervously wiped his damp palms against his trousers. Was Spock already back from the planet? If Bones figured it all out now and had his epic freak-out, Jim had to admit he wouldn't mind the help of a little Vulcan logic in the face of that particular storm.  
  
"Okay," he croaked out in a voice that wasn't really his own.  
  
Bones leaned over and pressed a button on the console on his desk. A moment later, Bones' voice sounded through the office.  
  
 _"Chief Medical Officer's personal log, supplemental. For the record: Captain James Tiberius Kirk is a fucking idiot. This is the third time in the last two months that he's spending the night in Medical, and I'm sure that's gotta set some kind of record. For being the biggest moron in all of Starfleet, probably. What exactly does it take for him to understand that his security details is there to defend him when push comes to shove, and no the other way around? I'm not playing favorites here, damn it, but if he keeps throwing himself into every line of fire, there'll come a time when I can't put him back together. I love the kid, but I swear one of these days I'm going to strangle him myself."  
_  
Bones pressed another button on the console, and the room fell silent again. Jim felt strangely detached as he tried to make sense of what he had heard. He had been expecting an entry that would make Bones doubt the fact that they could be married, something that was far more clear-cut than the message he had just heard.  
  
He looked up at Bones who was watching him from the other side of the desk.  
  
"So?"  
  
"So?" Bones let both palms fall onto the desk with a heavy sigh. "So? That's all you have to say, Jim? I checked your medical records after I heard that. Should have done that immediately, but I didn't think about it. Do you know that you have one of the highest frequencies of medical treatment aboard? Even discounting regular exams and your allergy shots, you end up down here twice as much as most other crewmembers. In fact, the only thing that keeps you from being the undisputed record holder is that apparently half the engineering crew aboard this ship consists of klutzes who are far too keen on experimenting with things that go _boom_."  
  
Jim nearly laughed in relief. He had all but expected for this whole thing to blow over, and considering that all he seemed to be in for was an epic lecture about how often he got injured, he felt like laughing out loud. Grumpy Bones he could deal with, he really did.  
  
"What do you want me to say? I'm the Captain. Sometimes that means I'm in the thick of things when it all goes downhill."  
  
" _Sometimes_ being the operative word here, Jim. Sometimes isn't three treatments in Medical after as many away missions. Sometimes isn't a medical file so thick that I could knock you unconscious with it if I printed it out and slapped you over the head with it. A Captain needs to delegate. And sometimes, a Captain needs to let a Security Officer do his damn job and protect the Captain, and not the other way around."  
  
Jim shook his head. "That's not me, Leonard. And it's not as if I was thinking much about these things before they happen. I just…react."  
  
Bones sighed deeply. "Not thinking might be exactly your problem." He shook his head. "But that's not even the main reason why I called you down here."  
  
"Then what is?"  
  
Bones made a pregnant pause, and despite everything Jim felt his heart speed up again.  
  
"Why the hell am I your attending physician?"  
  
Any possible response died in Jim's throat at that unexpected question.  
  
"What?" He croaked out.  
  
"I think you heard me." Bones didn't seem as angry as he had been when Jim had first entered the office, but he seemed genuinely confused about this. "We're married. So why am I your attending physician?"  
  
It was another thing Jim hadn't considered when they had constructed this web of lies, and he found that he was completely lacking an answer.  
  
"Because you're the CMO and I am, as we have already established, the Captain? The CMO is the officer aboard who is responsible for the Captain's physical wellbeing. It's in the regulations."  
  
"But not if the two are married!"  
  
Bones was raising his voice now, and Jim was taken aback by the strength of his reaction.  
  
"Why are you so hung up about that?"  
  
"Because it's unethical, Jim. That's why! No physician is supposed to treat family members, or their own spouses, not unless it's an absolute emergency. How am I supposed to stay rational when I'm treating my own husband? I'm surprised Starfleet hasn't done something against it already."  
  
Jim shook his head, completely at a loss for words. "I…I honestly don't know, okay? You've always been my doctor, ever since we both started at the Academy. It just happened, and we never changed it. Besides, I know that we have good doctors aboard. M'Benga is really good. But none of them are as good as you."  
  
But Bones was shaking his head as if Jim was making a completely invalid point. Which, by a purely medical standpoint, he probably was.  
  
"I'm not talking about the one in a thousand chance that you come limping back with injuries or illnesses neither of the other doctors can treat. I'm talking about anything from vaccinations and your damn booster shots right down to any kind of surgery every other doctor aboard this ship could perform just as well as me. I can't treat you anymore, Jim. I don't know why the hell I ever thought I could or should do it in the first place, but I can't. I'm officially handing you off as a patient. I'm not acting as CMO right now, but I already made note of it in the official log, so as of now you're officially Geoffrey's patient."  
  
Jim nodded numbly. Truth be told, he didn't even want to think about Bones' suggestion. He couldn't – and more importantly didn't _want_ to – imagine that Bones wasn't going to be his doctor anymore. He knew that M'Benga was good, and it wasn't that he didn't trust the other man to treat him. But there was simply a much deeper level of trust towards Bones. One of the reasons why Jim felt so confident about his actions as a Captain was that he knew Bones was always in the background, ready to catch him if he fell or overstepped a line. It was such an integral part of his daily life, and admittedly a safety net Jim didn't want to have to do without.  
  
The only reassurance was that this was only going to be valid for as long as Bones thought they were married. As soon as all that was over and the truth was out, Bones could go back to being his primary physician and everything was going to be fine.  
  
There, nothing to worry about. Really.  
  
So he said the only thing he could say to make Bones let the topic drop.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Bones nodded and tapped the console on his desk a few times, as if he had kept his medical log open all the time in case he needed more material to convince Jim that it was folly to keep things as they were, and was only now closing it. Jim bit his lip even though his first instinct was to ask Bones to play that previous recording again.  
  
He knew Bones hadn't meant the words with any romantic notion behind it, but it was hard to keep his thoughts straight when they kept echoing through his mind.  
  
 _I love the kid.  
_  
Of course Bones loved him. Jim knew that. Just not in any romantic way. And not in the way Jim might feel for Bones, even if that was something he still didn't really ponder about all that much. And really, how pathetic was it to want to hear those words just for the sake of hearing them, even if Jim _knew_ that they were meant in a completely different – an innocent – way? He didn't even want to think about it.  
  
And fortunately, he didn't have to, because at that moment there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Come in," Bones called, and the door opened to reveal M'Benga and Spock. Both men came into Bones' office, and upon seeing that Jim was there M'Benga gave a small nod of his head.  
  
"Captain, good that you're here, that saves us the wait."  
  
They sat down in the remaining chairs, the three of them filling the visitor capacity to Bones' office to the maximum.  
  
Jim frowned. "Is anything wrong? Is it about Lieutenant Harper?"  
  
M'Benga seemed to be taken aback for a second, but Jim remembered that the doctor had been treating to the Lieutenant when he had come to Medical. And Bones had told him often enough that parasites were nothing to be taken lightly.  
  
M'Benga shook his head. "No, the Lieutenant is resting now, or at least as much as he can. I can't put him under sedation, and I'm afraid that the treatment against Videlian bloodworms is not the most comfortable, but he should be all right by tomorrow, the day after that at the latest. He'll be in some discomfort for the night, but we're monitoring him closely."  
  
Jim nodded. "Good. Keep me updated on his condition, will you?"  
  
"Of course, Captain. Now, as for the reason why we wanted to talk to you both. Commander Spock approached me earlier with a suggestion concerning Leonard's memory loss."  
  
Jim frowned, casting a quick look at an equally confused looking Bones before he turned back towards M'Benga.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
M'Benga looked at Spock, wordlessly handing any further initiative over to the First Officer. Spock shifted slightly in his chair, straightening the hem of his shirt before he spoke.  
  
"What I suggested to Doctor M'Benga is not so much a treatment, if that is what you were hoping for. But as a Vulcan, there might be some assistance I could provide to finding out whether there is a specific reason for the loss of memory and why it doesn't seem to return with any haste."  
  
Jim suddenly had a bad feeling about this, but if Bones shared that sentiment, he didn't let it on. He had leaned forward in his chair as soon as Spock had started speaking, and there was an almost eager undertone to his voice when he spoke.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Spock drew a breath and cast a quick glance at Jim, as if he knew that the Captain was not going to like what he was about to say.  
  
"I could perform a mind meld…"  
  
"No." Jim said, firmly and definitely, and without waiting for any additional explanation the Vulcan might come up with. There simply was no way he was going to allow that to happen. He still remembered the meld old Spock had performed on him only too well, that feeling of absolute helplessness as another consciousness entered his own beyond his ability to control it. Old Spock might have admitted to carelessness, but Jim wasn't going to risk that Spock was going to leave traces of his own consciousness imprinted on Bones' mind like it had happened to him. No way.  
  
Even today, Jim sometimes remembered those glimpses of the world that other Spock had come from, of the person he had been there and all the things he had lost to Nero's interference. It didn't happen often, but even rarely it was too much to take.  
  
He wasn't going to risk anything even remotely similar happening to Bones, and there was going to be no discussion about it. Even if the other three occupants of the room stared at him after his vehement protest as if he had lost his mind.  
  
And of course it had to be Spock who spoke first.  
  
"Captain, I assure you…"  
  
Jim shook his head before the Vulcan even had any chance to continue.  
  
"No Spock. Nobody is going to mess around with Bones' mind."  
  
"I assure you that nobody would, as you put it, _mess around_ with the Doctor's mental abilities. But as a Vulcan I have the ability to access Doctor McCoy's mind to try and assess if there is any reason why his memory hasn't returned so far."  
  
But Jim was still shaking his head. "No Spock. I won't let you do that. End of discussion."  
  
"Hey!!" Bones' voice rang out from behind his desk, and Jim turned his head in reflex. The glare he received was icy.  
  
"I'm right here, you know? And it's my damn head y'all are talking about, so why don't the both of you let _me_ decide whether or not I want this!"  
  
Jim drew breath to reply, but Bones cut him off with a quick gesture of his hand.  
  
"No, damn it! If anybody gets a say in this, it's me." He looked at M'Benga. "What do you think, Geoffrey?"  
  
It made sense that Spock had gone to M'Benga first with this suggestion, Jim had to admit that. The doctor was specialized on Vulcans. Bones was no slouch in the area himself, but even he had always surrendered Spock's treatment to the other doctor without so much as a second thought about it. M'Benga so far had held himself out of the conversation, but now he shrugged.  
  
"It's not easy to say, Leonard. I trust I don't need to remind you what a Vulcan mind meld implies."  
  
Bones shook his head. "No, I'm pretty clear on that."  
  
M'Benga nodded. "Good. Commander Spock assures me that he has the ability to initiate a mind meld with a human, and that he has experience melding with minds that are…somewhat damaged, for a lack of better term. No offence, Leonard. However, fact remains that all experience aside, Commander Spock is no trained mind healer. And amnesia as such is not an illness, or necessarily a damage. Sometimes, it's just a protective mechanism of the mind, and it would be dangerous to interfere with that. There's always a certain risk that can't be completely eliminated."  
  
"See?" Jim gestured towards M'Benga. "There you have it. There's risks, and it could be dangerous. So why are we even talking about this when it's not even sure that it's not going to come back on its own?"  
  
M'Benga held up his hand. "That's not exactly what I said. I'm not denying that there's risks to every mind meld, especially between Vulcans and different species. But whether or not a meld would pose any danger to Leonard in this specific case really depends on what the Commander would do once he performs the meld. There's a huge difference between taking a quick peek and actively trying to repair whatever is damaged."  
  
"I would refrain from trying to _repair any damage_ , as Doctor M'Benga put it." Spock immediately replied. "But especially if your memory loss is prolonged, a meld might provide an insight as to why your memory isn't returning. As of now, it is merely a suggestion. I will gladly offer up my assistance, but it's not my intention to suggest any kind of mental invasion."  
  
Jim snorted. "Yeah, right. As if forcing your mind into someone else's isn't an invasion."  
  
Spock turned towards Jim, both eyebrows raised, but before he could say something Bones interrupted him.  
  
"Can I think about it?"  
  
M'Benga shook his head. "Of course. In fact, I my advice would be to give it a few days and see if memories start coming back with any kind of regularity. However, if nothing about your current condition changes, it is a course of action we should at least consider."  
  
Bones nodded thoughtfully, then he got up from his chair.  
  
"Okay. Then I'll go check on Lieutenant Harper. Feel free to keep yelling at each other while I'm gone."  
  
The office door closed behind him before Jim or anybody else in the room could even think up a possible reply, and the silence that settled over the room suddenly seemed oppressing. Jim drew a deep breath and cast what he hoped was a scalding glare at Spock.  
  
"Are you out of your mind?"  
  
Spock calmly raised an eyebrow.  
  
"It is apparent that you feel strongly averse to the suggestion of a mind meld, Captain."  
  
"Strongly averse?" Jim thought he hadn't heard right. "Damn right I'm feeling _strongly averse_ to it! You have no business snooping around in Bones' mind."  
  
Sometimes, in moments like this one, it drove Jim insane that it was impossible to have a real argument with his First Officer. Spock always remained calm, never even raised his damn voice no matter what Jim threw at him. The same happened now. While M'Benga looked every bit as if he'd prefer to be somewhere far away right now, Spock didn't seem the least bit fazed by Jim's outburst.  
  
"I pointed out before that I have no interest in investigating Doctor McCoy's mind any closer than I would need to. But if his condition remains the same and the memories do not return on their own as they should, a meld could offer the chance to determine if there are any additional factors to the Doctor's amnesia that we haven't yet considered."  
  
Jim shook his head stubbornly. "Forget it. It's not going to happen, Spock. And I will make it an order if I have to."  
  
"With all due respect Captain…Jim – the decision about this is that of Doctor McCoy and his attending physician, and medical decisions do not fall under the authority of the Captain unless they concern the safety of the entire ship. It's Doctor McCoy's decision."  
  
Spock didn't want to understand. That was the only possible explanation Jim had.  
  
"And think about exactly that for a second, Spock."  
  
Again, the eyebrow rose, this time in the slight nuance Jim had come to learn as a signal of confusion.  
  
"I'm afraid I cannot follow."  
  
"You're saying it's Bones' decision. And we both know that Bones, the Bones who still remembers his life and everyone in it, wouldn't even let your fingers get in the vicinity of his face. He'd never agree to the meld and you know it."  
  
"Captain, I find it hard to make an assumption like that without knowing all of Doctor McCoy's motivations…"  
  
Jim shook his head. "Trust me, Spock. If there was the chance that his memory returns on its own, he'd never agree to the meld, and you know it. It's unfair not to tell him that. Besides, I know what a meld is like, and I'm not going to let Bones go through that if there is any other way."  
  
M'Benga looked slightly taken aback at that, but Jim didn't elaborate. There were only very few people who knew of old Spock's true identity and about what had happened on Delta Vega, and he wasn't about to go into the details of any of that. Spock knew what he was talking about, and the doctor would just have to accept not being in the know this time. Spock didn't volunteer any information, either.  
  
"You cannot compare this, Jim. The meld that was performed on you was performed in haste, and admittedly not with as much care as such a procedure normally requires. Its sole intent was to transfer a large amount of information in a short amount of time, and the traces it left in your mind would not have happened had the circumstances been better. I assure you that if Doctor McCoy agrees to let me perform the meld, there will be…"  
  
Spock didn't get to finish his promise of what was going to happen if he performed the meld because at that moment a resounding crash came from the main room of Sickbay. Despite the closed office door it rang so sharply through the room that all three men were out of their chairs in an instant, but it was the muffled exclamation of pain right after the crashing sound that spurred them into action. Jim didn't even think as he started running towards the door. It had been Bones' voice, and rational thought took the backseat as pure instinct took over. Something was wrong with Bones, so he had to get there and fix it.  
  
But whatever scenarios his mind came up with during those two or three seconds that it took Jim to open the door and step through it, it wasn't what he saw when he left the office.  
  
Lieutenant Harper was still lying on the biobed to Jim's right, the privacy curtain now halfway open from when Bones had checked up on him. A tray of instruments that had been standing beside the bed had been knocked over, medical equipment strewn everywhere around the bed. But it was Bones Jim's eyes were immediately pulled to.  
  
He was kneeling next to the biobed opposite of Harper's, as if he had stumbled away from the Lieutenant's bed but only managed a few steps before his legs gave out. He had both his arms pressed against his head, hands buried in his hair, and he was rocking back and forth slightly. His face was contorted in pain as his mouth formed soundless words, and Jim was at his side and kneeling down on the cold floor in front of him without any clue as to how or when he had crossed the room.  
  
"Bones! Bones, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"  
  
With both hands Jim reached for Bones' shoulders, but he received no answer.  
  
"Bones, can you hear me?"  
  
The panic was rising rapidly now, and ugly and icy thing deep inside of Jim's gut, and he looked up helplessly at M'Benga, who was crouching beside Bones with a tricorder in his hand.  
  
"What the hell is going on?"  
  
The doctor shook his head. "Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be anything physical Captain."  
  
Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Jim pulled gently at Bones' shoulders, until the other man's forehead came to rest against his shoulder. Bones was incredibly tense under Jim's hands, and up close Jim could hear his friend's hoarse whispers, a constant repetition of _no, no, no_ and _how could I?_. It didn't make sense, but it made Jim hold on just a little bit tighter.  
  
"Doctor?"  
  
M'Benga was handling a hypospray, but he took a moment to look up at Jim's slightly panicked tone.  
  
"I told you, it's not a physical condition, his scans come back clean. Judged by the intensity of his reaction, I'd say he remembers something."  
  
"What? The last time that happened, he simply remembered. He didn't fall over, and he most certainly wasn't in any pain!"  
  
M'Benga finished fiddling with the hypospray and injected the medication into Bones' neck with a sharp hiss of the decompressing cylinder.  
  
"Whatever physical pain he's in is not coming from any memories returning, if that's what it is. He's tensing up to the degree that he's having muscle spasms."  
  
"What did you give him?"  
  
"A muscle relaxant," M'Benga replied as he sat back on his haunches. "It should take effect in a few moments."  
  
He made move to get up, but Jim felt that couldn't possibly be all.  
  
"Wait, what am I supposed to do now?"  
  
M'Benga shrugged a bit helplessly. "Stay with him until he has calmed down. And try to find out what triggered this. I'll be around, so just call if you need anything, but right now it's probably best not to crowd him."  
  
Jim was anything but assured by the thought of being left alone to deal with this. On the other hand, he appreciated the thought that Bones wouldn't have to live with half his medical staff seeing him like this. M'Benga ran his scanner over Bones one more time, then he straightened up and stepped away from the bed with a last nod at Jim. On his way, he pulled the privacy curtain around the bed, shielding them from view of anybody who might be passing by.  
  
His attention was drawn back to Bones when he felt the other man shift slightly against him. Hands clutched at the fabric of Jim's shirt, grip tight over his collarbone and against his back, and without thought Jim found himself shifting closer, pulling Bones more tightly against himself. One hand went around Bones' back, the other against the back of his head, holding him tightly against his shoulder.  
  
"Bones, it's okay. I'm here, I've got you."  
  
The muscle relaxant was slowly kicking in, and Jim felt how Bones slumped further against him. But he could also feel the slight tremors in the muscles on Bones' back. Whatever momentary relief he might be experiencing was artificial, Bones himself was still coiled tight.  
"What happened, Bones? Did you remember anything?"  
  
Silence was the only answer he received for a few long moments, interrupted only by Bones' harsh breathing and his constant litany of whispered _no_ 's. Jim wasn't even sure Bones had heard him.  
  
"Bones. Leonard. Please, what happened?"  
  
Bones' fingers tightened reflexively, scratching almost painfully over Jim's skin despite the layer of fabric in between. As if in answer, Jim pulled Bones yet another bit closer. He felt absolutely helpless, and that had been one feeling Jim had never dealt with very well.  
  
"You remembered something, didn't you?"  
  
Bones gave a barely perceptible nod against Jim's shoulder, and Jim frantically searched his mind for something, anything in Bones' past that would warrant such a strong reaction. His friend's life hadn't all been sunshine and roses, but he had never before seen him like this.  
  
"Bones, what…"  
  
"I killed him."  
  
Bones' voice was hoarse, and barely above a whisper, but the words rang in Jim's ears as if he had yelled them.  
  
Oh, _fuck_.  
  
Of all the memories that could have come back, of all the things in Bones' life that could have come back to him, this…why the hell did it have to be this memory?  
  
"I killed him, Jim." Thanks to the muscle relaxant Bones was nearly completely slack under Jim's hands now, but his grip on Jim's shirt was still tight as he repeated those words in a broken voice. "I killed my own father."  
  
Jim didn't know what he could do. He desperately wanted to do something, but he was helpless to do more than pull the other man yet another bit closer. It was woefully inadequate, and if he could have, if there had been any physical possibility to wrap himself completely around Bones and shoulder some of that pain himself, he would have done so in an instant.  
  
All he could do was to tell Bones yet another lie.  
  
"It's okay, Bones." He pressed his face against the top of Bones' head. "I promise you, it's okay."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**  
  
It wasn't okay.  
  
In fact, it was anything but okay.  
  
The death of his father was one of the things Bones hardly ever talked about. For a long time, for more than two years of their friendship in fact, Jim hadn't known anything about it except that David McCoy had died while Bones was still in med school. And had it not been for a drunken confession one night early into their third year at the Academy, Jim still wouldn't know any more details about it.  
  
But fact was he knew, and so he could understand why the memory of what he had done was tearing Bones apart. If that cure for the older McCoy's illness hadn't been found so quickly after his death, maybe then Bones would have different feelings about the whole matter. Not that it made any difference. _If_ , _maybe_ , all that didn't help Bones right now, either.  
  
Fact was that it had been David McCoy's wish for his son to end his suffering, and granting that wish had been a decision Jim knew Bones hadn't made lightly. It was haunting him to this day, but at least with time and the knowledge of the exact circumstances of his father's death he had found a way to deal with what he had done.  
  
With nothing but the memory of how he administered that final hypospray and then sat down to watch his father die, it was so small wonder the memory had brought him to his knees.  
  
Jim had no idea if Bones had ever told anyone else about it. He doubted it, and he hadn't told M'Benga or Spock anything about the cause of Bones' sudden collapse, either. As far as he was concerned, it was nobody's business. Besides, he didn't need the Vulcan or the doctor to figure out that the sight of Lieutenant Harper on that biobed, moaning in pain as the bloodworms were flushed from his body, had been the trigger for that particular memory to return.  
  
Only hours ago, Jim had hoped and prayed that Bones would finally start to remember something. But now it had happened, Jim would give anything to take it back. That was one memory he actually wished Bones could forget and never remember.  
  
But it had happened, and no amount of wishing was going to make it undone.  
  
Jim didn't know for how long he and Bones sat on the cold and uncomfortable floor in Sickbay, and it didn't really matter, either. So what if his ass got cold and his left leg went numb? Jim would have sat there for the entire night if that was what Bones needed.  
  
In the end, it was Bones who withdrew, eyes averted and a slight flush on his face. It was obvious that he was embarrassed, and though Jim longed to reassure, he knew that Bones wasn't going to believe a word of it. So he did the only thing he could think of – he pulled Bones up, waited until the other man was somewhat steady on his feet, and took him to their quarters. The muscle relaxant was still working, making Bones slightly wobbly on his feet, but somehow Jim managed to get them both into their quarters and Bones settled on the sofa without any incidents.  
  
If he was honest with himself, Jim had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't good at this. For the most part, Jim had a hard enough time dealing with his own emotions, and he most definitely didn't have any experience in or mechanisms for helping deal other people with theirs. The only one he had ever let close enough to get to that point was Bones, and they were both dysfunctional enough to not deal with things the normal way.  
  
But what had worked in the past couldn't be completely wrong in the present, and there was only one way that had always worked to get Bones to talk about what was bothering him, and to deal with whatever emotional upheaval he was trying to deal with. So once Bones was settled on the sofa, Jim went over to the wall cabinet and took out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. Bones was watching him skeptically as he carried those over, exhaustion and pain still visibly lining his face, and when Jim put the bottle down he raised a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
"I'm pretty sure hard liquor is illegal on a starship."  
  
Jim snorted and sat on the sofa beside Bones. He unscrewed the cap and poured them both a generous measure of the bourbon.  
  
"I promise I won't report you. Hell, we have a functioning still in Jeffrey's tube 227B that I'm not supposed to know about, so if I started reporting people for that, I wouldn't even know where to begin. So drink up. Captain's orders."  
  
Bones gave a mirthless laugh, but he reached for the glass and drank half of its contents in one large swallow. He didn't put the glass down again, instead he clutched it with both hands and stared down at its contents as if they were hiding some elusive answers, but he gave an appreciative nod.  
  
"Good stuff."  
  
Jim smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less from your emergency stash. Drink up, that bottle has our names written on it."  
  
Bones snorted. "If it's my emergency stash, shouldn't it have _my_ name written on it?"  
  
Bones' voice still was hoarse, and he still wasn't meeting Jim's eyes when he talked to him, but at least he was talking. It was a step.  
  
"There's no _my_ in a marriage, just so you know. Your bourbon is my bourbon."  
  
Bones just shook his head with an eye-roll and downed the second half of his drink, holding his glass out for Jim to refill, and Jim took that as a good sign. Bones would start talking about what had happened in Sickbay when he wanted to talk about it. Or when he was ready for it. _If_ he was. For now, he didn't seem disinclined to talk at all, and that was the main thing. Jim had patience, and a near-full bottle of bourbon to tide him over while he waited.  
  
A few hours later that bottle was nowhere near full anymore, and a pleasant buzz made Jim relax bonelessly into the sofa cushions. There was something to say about self-medication in his opinion. Not that it solved any problems, Jim wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It hadn't brought Bones any closer to deal with that latest memory either, not by a long shot. But it had taken the worst sting out of it at the very least, if only for a little time.  
  
They hadn't talked about it, and maybe that was the reason why they were as relaxed as they were now, lounging on the sofa in companionable silence. Oh, they had talked, just not about what had happened in Sickbay earlier. After the first couple of glasses, Jim had started reminiscing about previous evenings spent with nothing but booze and each other for company. No morose stories, but some of the fond memories he had of their time at the Academy, dashed with a sprinkle of current ship-gossip. It was mundane, and nothing they'd have spent an evening talking about under any other circumstances. But it had been the right – and _safe_ – choice for the evening. Bones looked better than he had earlier, too. Some of the color had returned to his face, and the bourbon had brought a slight flush to his cheeks.  
  
Jim hadn't expected that Bones was going to spill all his worries to him right away. Amnesia or not, that wasn't who Bones was, and that wasn't what this had been about. It had been about getting Bones' mind off of what had happened earlier. If he wanted to talk, Jim was going to listen, but if he didn't, Jim wasn't going to make him, either.  
  
A comfortable silence had settled between them, the kind of silence where neither of them felt compelled to say anything just in order to break it. Which was weird, Jim thought. He could never stand silence well, but between him and Bones that was something different. And he liked it. He liked the knowledge that just the fact that he was there was enough; that Bones didn't have any other expectations.  
  
He was torn out of his musings when Bones shifted on the couch beside him. Putting his glass down next to the bottle, he rubbed his palms over his face with a tired sigh.  
  
"We should try to get some sleep."  
  
Checking the chrono, Jim realized that it was already past eleven. Not even close to his normal bedtime, but normally his days didn't end with just that much bourbon, either. And if Bones said he wanted to go to bed, that meant he probably didn't want to talk about whatever was going through his head. At least not tonight. So Jim wasn't going to push.  
  
"You're right."  
  
He put his own glass down on the table and pushed himself off the sofa. The room tilted slightly, and he took a balancing step to the side with a barely suppressed snort of amusement about himself. That might have been a shot of bourbon – or maybe two or three – too many. Bones looked a little more steady as he got up from the sofa and turned towards the partition that separated the bed from the rest of Jim's quarters. Just _slightly_ more steady. There was a slight wobble to his steps, just like earlier when the muscle relaxant had been making him unsteady on his feet, but he managed to walk in a somewhat straight line.  
  
Jim was watching his progress, eyes drifting to the shift of Bones' ass underneath the black fabric of his regulation slacks almost automatically – and he _really_ needed to get a grip on himself about that. Tomorrow. As soon as he was sober again.   
  
Eventually he realized that following Bones might be a good idea if he wanted to get into bed, as well. He could ponder his sudden desire to stare at his friend's ass once the lights were out.  
  
Or maybe not. It sounded creepy if he put it like that.  
  
Bones had already turned down the lights to a low setting as Jim stepped up to the bed, and it took him a moment to realize that Bones seemed to have decided to forego their nightly ritual of changing behind the closed bathroom door. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, gloriously shirtless and locked in what seemed like an epic battle with his left boot. His pants were already pulled down to the middle of his thighs while he still struggled to get his shoes and socks off, and Jim drew in a sharp breath at the sight of so much skin.  
  
This was _wrong_.  
  
Bones was his friend, he wasn't supposed to ogle him while he tried to get his clothes off to get into bed. Jim quickly turned away and shrugged out of his own shirt, his cheeks burning and an uncomfortable tightness settling in his stomach. He should have stayed sober this evening. Or more sober than he was now, in any case.  
  
Jim was no stranger to undressing in a state of drunkenness, but he felt a little self-conscious as he nearly stumbled over his own feet in an attempt to get out of his pants. But finally he had managed to undress down to his underwear and slid under the blanket. It had become somewhat of a habit by now that Jim hugged the right edge of the bed, at least until he fell asleep. He heard Bones settle on the other side, felt the shift of the blanket as Bones covered himself up with somewhat sluggish movements.  
  
"Computer, lights."  
  
The room settled into darkness, and Jim tried to relax back into the mattress in an attempt to get some rest.  
  
Normally, Bones settled once and then was out like a light, an ability Jim guessed came from too many hours working double and triple shifts in the hospital where every opportunity for sleep had to count. But tonight, despite the alcohol, sleep didn't seem to come. Jim heard Bones shift on the other side of the bed, and there was something comforting to the thought of falling asleep to the sounds of Bones settling beside him. It was yet another of those things that came from a place inside of him Jim had previously not even known existed; another of those things he didn't question because he was worried the answer was going to reveal a whole bunch of things he wasn't going to be able to deal with.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Jim only realized that he had been drifting off when Bones' voice tore him out of his sleepy musings. Blinking his eyes open in the darkness, he stretched out and rolled onto his back.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Earlier." Bones' voice sounded rough in the darkness, the alcohol making his accent just that bit more prominent in his speech. "'n Sickbay. I kinda freaked out. 'n I know you said not to apologize, but I'm sorry."  
  
Jim didn't really know what to say to that. "It's okay. Remembering _that_ , I probably would have freaked out as well."  
  
There was a rustle of blankets, and Jim thought Bones might have shrugged. Without light, he couldn't tell for sure though.  
  
"So you know."  
  
It wasn't really a question. Bones sounded as if he was already sure of the answer, but still Jim felt the need to say something in reply. He finished his earlier movement and rolled all the way onto his left side so that he was facing Bones. Not that he could see the other man. In the very dim light of a few LED displays around the room, he could barely make out Bones' outline in the darkness. He was fairly sure that Bones was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, but he couldn't say for sure.  
  
"You told me a while ago."  
  
And somehow it was important to him that Bones knew it had been his choice to tell him about his father's death, that Jim hadn't found out about it some other way. Bones waited for a moment, but when Jim didn't elaborate, he sighed deeply.  
  
"An' you're okay with what I did?"  
  
Jim drew a deep breath, somehow completely blindsighted by that question. That was something Bones had never asked him before, and one he had never thought about either. Back when Bones had told him the story, it had been with the intention of letting Jim know about that particular burden he was carrying around, not to ask for any kind of judgment. It had made listening to Bones' story and accepting it for what it was a lot easier than what Bones was asking of him now.  
  
Now he understood why Bones had waited until now to ask this, when he didn't have to meet Jim's eye and face his reaction. But the darkness wouldn't do for this. It was far too important.  
  
"Computer, lights at 10%."  
  
The light was dim, but it was enough to make out Bones in the bed beside him. He was lying on his back, but as the lights suddenly turned on he turned his head towards Jim with a frown, as if he hadn't expected that Jim was going to force eye-contact for what he was about to say.  
Not that Jim thought he had a definite answer to Bones' question.  
  
"It wasn't my decision to make. If it had been me? I don't know what I'd have done. But I understand why your father asked you to do it, and why you made that choice. I'm not…it's not my place to make moral judgments, Bones." He gave a small bark of laughter, but sobered up again quickly. "'m the last person who should. All I knew is that you were asked to make a choice where what was best for your Dad was fucking hard for you. You could've hidden behind your oath, but you didn't. Instead you granted your father's wish even though you knew it'd come back to haunt you. And yeah, I'm okay with that. It was a damn brave choice, and I respect that. But that's not the important question, anyway."  
  
The movement of Bones' eyebrows had been a little out of synch ever since the bottle of bourbon had been about halfway empty.  
  
"Oh yeah? Then what is?"  
  
Jim shifted on the bed, and waited until Bones finally met his eyes.  
  
"Doesn't matter if I'm okay with it. What matters is that you're okay with it."  
  
Bones seemed taken aback by that. For a few moments there was utter silence in the room, then the bed shifted as Bones rolled onto his side so that he was facing Jim. There was something in his gaze as he looked at Jim, something raw and open that made all of Jim's protective instincts flare up. That Bones was leaving himself so open scared and humbled him at the same time, and he knew for a fact that right now he couldn't get by with lying.  
  
"Am I?"  
  
And wasn't that the big question. Fuck, Jim was either far too drunk or not drunk enough for this.  
  
He shifted, pillowing his head on his arm.  
  
"I think you found a way to be okay with it, yeah. Because you being you, it was the only choice you could make. No matter what happened after, at the moment when you had to make that choice it was the only one you could make. It still hurts, not that you'd let it on. But it does, and that's not gonna change. But deep down, despite all the pain, you know it was the only thing you could do. So I'd say you're okay with it. As okay as anyone can ever be with something like that."  
  
Jim didn't know if it was enough, if anything he could ever say was enough to make Bones understand that he wasn't judging him for this.  
  
Bones looked at him for a few long moments, hazel eyes meeting blue in the dim light as if he was trying to figure out whether Jim was being honest with him or not. His teeth were worrying his lower lip while he thought about Jim's words.  
  
"Sounds like you're trying to give me absolution."  
  
Jim shook his head.  
  
"No. I'm trying to make you see that there were reasons for why you did what you did. And that normally you don't have to justify yourself for it, especially not in front of me. But I'm not your priest."  
  
Bones snorted, shifting to pillow his head on his bent arm in a mirror of Jim's position.  
"No, you're not," he said. "You're my husband."  
  
And judged by the tone of his voice, that made Jim's judgment far more important than anybody else's. Jim swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. There was something in Bones' eyes, something Jim had never seen before and couldn't quite place. But it was captivating, and Jim couldn't have looked away even if he had wanted to.  
  
Suddenly, Jim became acutely aware of their position. Their turning had brought them close to each other, closer than they had ever been on this bed, at least while they had still been awake. They both had their heads pillowed on their bent arms, and their elbows were nearly touching. Up this close, in the dim light of the room, Bones' eyes looked a warm brown rather than the expressive hazel Jim knew they were. It was captivating, and he couldn't bring himself to break the contact.  
  
"Thanks, Jim."  
  
Jim didn't know what Bones was thanking him for. He hadn't done anything but listen and tell Bones that he wasn't the monster this one resurfaced memory made him think he was. And not because of any of the lies he was caught up in right now had forced him to say that, but because he genuinely couldn't stand the thought that Bones thought any less of himself for making a hard choice.  
  
"Nothing to thank me for."  
  
He was suddenly feeling lightheaded. It had to be the alcohol still flowing through his blood in generous amounts. There was no other explanation as to why he was suddenly feeling strangely weightless, unable to look anywhere but into those eyes just inches away from his own. He had no idea what was happening, but whatever it was, he was unable to stop it.  
  
It could have been seconds or minutes that passed like this, Jim was unable to tell and could not tear his eyes away from Bones' for just the second it'd take to check the chrono. It didn't matter either. The blanket rustled with movement, and Jim knew it had to be Bones because he himself couldn't have moved a single muscle at that moment if his life depended on it. But even at the first gentle touch of warm fingers against his cheek, Jim didn't break eye-contact.  
  
Bones was looking at him with a fascination Jim couldn't quite grasp or understand as his fingers traced the outline of his cheekbone. Bones had drunk at least as much as Jim, but the movement of his fingers against Jim's skin was sure. Jim knew he should stop this. Whatever this was and where it was leading, he should stop this now before it got out of hand. But the feeling of Bones' touch was far more intoxicating than any bourbon could ever be. His skin was tingling where Bones touched it, like a pleasant current was running between them, discharging at the contact.  
  
He didn't want to stop this.  
  
Bones' fingers moved to his forehead, thumb tracing the outline of his eyebrow gently before the fingers ran past his temple, down his cheek and towards his lips. Jim hissed in a small breath as those skilled surgeon's fingers outlined his lips, his movements soft and explorative. It was so startling and intimate all of a sudden, but it didn't feel like too much, or a step too far. It was wrong, but all Jim could think was that it felt right, like something he had been missing without knowing how much he needed it.  
  
Bones was watching the movement of his own fingers in fascination, as if he was seeing Jim for the first time now that he used both sight and touch. They were close enough that Jim could feel the warmth of Bones' breath on his skin, and without conscious thought his free hand moved up against Bones' arm. The skin felt incredibly warm against his palm, and he could feel the soft shift of muscle underneath as Bones kept moving his fingers across Jim's face.  
  
Jim felt as if he was dissolving under the achingly tender touch of Bones' hands. He didn't remember ever feeling like this before, but he was fairly sure he didn't want it to end.  
  
"Do we do this often?"  
  
Bones' voice should have broken the spell, but they were just as soft and caressing as the feeling of the other man's fingers on Jim's face, stirring something in Jim's gut that was so good it was almost painful. And for the first time, Jim didn't even think about telling a lie, or deflecting the question with a quip. There was never any choice for him but to tell the truth.  
  
"No." He was surprised how steady his own voice sounded. "Not nearly often enough."  
  
The corners of Bones' mouth lifted up in a slight smile. "Guess we have to change that then."  
  
Jim didn't know what he was doing. It was as if his body was acting on its own volition as his hand moved from Bones' arm up over his shoulder to the back of his neck. Bones' eyes flickered half-shut for a second as Jim's hand gently cupped the back of his neck, but he never once took his eyes off Jim.  
  
Bones' hair was surprisingly soft as Jim's fingers carded through the short strands.  
  
Jim had the strange feeling that he was agreeing to something, initiating something even though he couldn't have put words to what was happening. He couldn't think beyond Bones and himself on the bed, like this, and the feeling that the touch of skin on skin was the thin thread that was holding him together and kept him from coming apart at the seams. Bones' eyes were almost liquid in the light of the room, brown and gold and green melting into one another as Jim felt the other man shift closer.  
  
The kiss should have surprised him, but it didn't. The soft, almost tentative press of lips against his own felt like the natural progress of what they had been doing over the past minutes, and Jim finally allowed his eyes to drift close. Bones' lips were warm and dry, and Jim's hand was still on the back of Bones' neck, holding him in place just as much as he was holding on to ground himself.  
  
He knew he was being a hypocrite. Only yesterday he had told Bones that they shouldn't do this, and nothing had changed since then. Bones still didn't remember, and Jim was still taking advantage of his friend's misperception about their relationship. But all that didn't matter right now. All that did was that it felt right like this. Bones' lips felt like they belonged pressed against his. It might be the alcohol, but Jim didn't want to think about what he should or shouldn't do, or what consequences might be awaiting them for giving in to this. All that he wanted was the feeling of Bones' lips on his, and if he was honest with himself he didn't want it to end anytime soon.  
  
Bones' hand was warm against his cheek, and his lips were warm and surprisingly gentle as they moved against Jim's. It felt only natural to give in to this, to open up as Bones' tongue carefully traced along his lower lip. Bones tasted like bourbon, and it felt like comfort and home to slide his tongue gently against his.  
  
It wasn't a demanding kiss, not an innuendo to anything more. It was a reassuring kiss, as if Bones was trying to make sure that whatever he was looking for was still there even as he was still trying to reassemble the scattered pieces of his mind. And Jim wanted to lose himself in the kiss, wanted nothing more than to keep kissing Bones for the entire night.  
  
Bones withdrew far too soon, breaking the kiss with a gentle press of his lips against Jim's.  
  
"We shouldn't…"  
  
"I know." Bones pressed another tender kiss against Jim's lips and settled back against his own pillow. Only now that they were moving apart did Jim realize how entangled they had become during the kiss, arms around each other and hands pressed against arms and shoulders. Bones was still lying close, even though to Jim it felt as if even those few inches were much too far.  
  
"I know," he repeated, his hand squeezing Jim's arm gently. "When I remember." He blinked tiredly at Jim. "We can kiss when I remember."  
  
And before Jim could even think about a possible answer, Bones' eyes drifted close with a soft exhale. Jim didn't know if it was funny or worrisome that Bones fell asleep mere moments after they kissed, but his hand was still resting against Jim's arm, radiating warmth against his skin, and somehow that was reassurance enough for him.  
  
This was probably going to be awkward come tomorrow morning. Even more awkward than mornings between them were anyway, but Jim couldn't bring himself to care. He was tired and content, and barely managed to mumble out the command to extinguish the lights before his own eyes drifted close as he followed Bones into sleep.  
  
Besides, it didn't matter. What mattered was that somehow, they had managed to keep Bones from falling apart tonight. And whether or not Bones really still wanted to kiss him once he got his memory back was a question of its own, but it wasn't the most important thing right now. That was the second part of what Bones had said before he had drifted off.  
  
When he got his memory back.  
  
 _When_ , not _if_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**  
  
Jim couldn't stand this for any longer.  
It had just been one lie, one small sentence he hadn't even _thought_ about at the time. Hell, he hadn't once considered that there might be any further consequences to this whole mess other than Bones being a little more grumpy and snarling than he usually was once he figured out that they weren't really married.  
  
This?  
  
This was a fucking nightmare.  
  
He was pretending to live a life that was neither his own nor Bones, a life Bones was trying to remember even though it had never existed. And to make a fucking miserable thing even worse, Jim had to admit that he didn't really mind living this life.  
  
It was ironic, how Bones tried to overcome his discomfort about this alleged marriage because he thought he had to, while Jim got completely blindsighted by the fact that there were far worse things than being married to the other man.  
  
He didn't say it. He didn't even dare to think it, but that didn't mean it was there.  
  
The realization had started creeping upon him the first time Bones had kissed him. And even though there had been plenty of alcohol involved the second time around, that second kiss had been the moment Jim had _known_. And he had been absolutely sure by the next morning, when he had woken up, hung-over and tired, but wrapped around Bones just as the other man had been wrapped around him, feeling like there was nothing better in the whole damn world than this.  
  
He was in love with Bones. Had been in love with him for a while now if he was honest with himself.  
  
And that made this whole damn mess so much worse. Bones had earned better than that. After all they had been through together, he had earned so much better than a best friend who used his time of weakness for his own selfish needs. All Jim should care about was that Bones' memory returned, and his own feelings shouldn't matter at all. But fact was, he couldn't stop thinking about how all this made him feel.  
  
Maybe Frank had been right calling him a selfish little prick all those times.  
  
Jim no longer knew what to do. He had no fucking clue what to do and what not anymore. Bones had forgotten about his life, and that in turn had completely upset Jim's life right along with it. There was simply no way they'd ever be able to just gloss this over once Bones got his memory back. No fucking way that they could simply go back to how they had been before that shuttle accident.  
  
Bones' friendship was the one thing Jim didn't want to and couldn't live without. The mere thought that this whole pretend marriage might tear that apart was far more horrible than Jim wanted to admit, even to himself. He couldn't lose this. He couldn't ever lose Bones.  
  
It sucked.  
  
It sucked royally, and it was even worse because there was nobody Jim could talk to about it. The only person he could ever talk to about something this personal was Bones, and _that_? Yeah. Not an option right now.  
  
He could talk to Spock, Jim guessed, but things had to be a lot worse for him to start asking the Vulcan for advice on matters of the heart. Not because he didn't trust Spock, but because Jim didn't think the Vulcan could comprehend the full scope of what all this meant to Jim. And maybe because deep down, Jim was a little afraid that a perfectly rational and logical analysis of the whole matter wasn't going to lead to the answers he wanted to hear.  
  
No, there was nobody Jim could talk to who would really understand what all this meant to him. But he needed to talk about it, and there really was only one possibility left for him.  
  
He found M'Benga in the lab that was part of main Sickbay. Jim loved the Enterprise, he loved being Captain of this ship and every nook and cranny that was part of it, but the lab was one of those parts of the ship Jim felt somewhat disconnected from. It was the medical equivalent to that small utility room in Engineering which was heavy with the feel of electric smog, where everything blinked and bleeped and seemed to follow Scotty's command alone. The lab was Bones' domain, and half the time Jim had no fucking clue what was going on there. He understood that it was the place where medications and antidotes that weren't amongst Starfleet's standard equipment were brought to life whenever they were needed. That part wasn't too hard to understand, after all. During an acute crisis, Bones often spent more time in the lab than in the main body of Sickbay.  
  
But most of the other time, Jim had no idea what was going on in the large room. There were always a number of experiments set up along the tables, monitored by the computer and accompanied by readouts that meant absolutely nothing to Jim. But Bones could spend hours in here doing research on a particular virus or parasite, trying to develop new medications or procedures. Spock understood much better what exactly it was that happened in the lab, but Jim himself had often enough been simply content to watch Bones in his domain, to take a few moments to just admire the competence and medical capacity that was Leonard McCoy.  
  
Oh yeah, he probably should have noticed something so much earlier.  
  
M'Benga was alone in the room when Jim entered. He was sitting behind one of the workstations, comparing something on the PADD he was holding to the readouts on the console in front of him. It didn't look like anything busy was going on in the lab, but who was Jim to judge that? There were pieces of equipment blinking and humming all across the room, so for all Jim knew M'Benga could be about to have a scientific breakthrough.  
  
However, the doctor's head immediately perked up when Jim entered the room, so whatever it was he was doing couldn't be all that important.  
  
"Captain."  
  
"Hey Doc. Do you have a moment?"  
  
"Sure." M'Benga pushed his chair away from the console, bringing Jim right into his line of vision. "Is anything wrong?"  
  
"Besides the obvious?"  
  
Jim hadn't wanted to say it out loud, but the words had simply slipped out before he could even think about it. M'Benga gave a knowing nod, watching as Jim leaned heavily against one of the lab tables and crossed his arms over his chest. Now that those words were out, Jim didn't have to elaborate any further what he was talking about.  
  
"I see." M'Benga got up from his chair and walked around the workstation, leaning back against the table so that he was facing Jim, mirroring his position. "Anything I can help with?"  
  
Jim shook his head.  
  
"I don't know. I don't think so. It's…I never thought this whole thing would reach these proportions. Nor that it was going to last this long."  
  
"Nobody did, Captain. I still stand by my evaluation that after what happened when he woke up in the hospital, it's been the best course of action for Leonard's sake. But trust me that I didn't think it was going to last longer than a day or two, either."  
  
Jim's mind started racing at those words. He couldn't help it, but there was an undertone to M'Benga's words that suggested Bones' recovery wasn't _normal_ , that something was wrong. And wasn't that what he was most afraid of? That this was how it was going to be from now on, that Bones was never going to get his memory back? Jim felt his heart speed up in his chest as he searched the doctor's impassive face for any kind of sign.  
  
"So it's not normal. Is that what you're saying? That Bones should have his memory back by now and that he hasn't means that something's seriously wrong?"  
  
M'Benga shook his head.  
  
"No, that's not what I meant." M'Benga ran a hand over his face as he searched for the right words. "It's not what I expected, medically. But that doesn't mean anything is wrong."  
  
"Now _that_ sounds reassuring, Doc."  
  
M'Benga raised his hands in a placating manner, but it didn't help the turmoil and uproar that was starting to settle in Jim's gut.  
  
"Leonard's head impacted with a solid surface at high velocity during that crash, Captain. In plain terms, he got lucky that his injuries weren't a lot worse. It's normal that such an impact scrambles the brain a little. And let me tell you something about the human brain: modern medicine looks back on centuries of scientific research on it, research that got more and more elaborate and detailed as science progressed. And all it did was get us to the point where we can make halfway accurate diagnoses and predictions in maybe fifty percent of the cases. It's a simple fact that the human brain has defense- and regenerative mechanisms which no doctor and no degree of modern medicine can predict reliably."  
  
"So what you're saying is that basically you got no clue."  
  
Jim found that he was getting angry, because if that was really what M'Benga was trying to tell him, the good doctor was about four days late in owing up to that particular truth. But once more, M'Benga shook his head.  
  
"No. What I'm trying to tell you is that there is no _right_ or _normal_ with what Leonard is going through, at least none that I or any other doctor can determine."  
  
"And what is that supposed to mean?"  
  
M'Benga sighed, as if Jim was demanding answers that were incredibly hard to give, when all he asked for was a simple explanation.  
  
"It means that amnesia isn't as simple a diagnosis as it sounds, Captain. Retrograde amnesia after a head trauma is actually quite common, in the sense that the moment leading up to the trauma can't be remembered. Sometimes people suffering from it just miss a few minutes, sometimes up to half an hour or an hour before the head trauma occurred. That's a usual occurrence, and those are memories that are hardly ever recovered. Amnesia of the kind Leonard is suffering from as the consequence of head trauma is…unusual. Not unheard of, but unusual. His temporal lobe was affected during the impact, so everything is well within the realm where there's a medical explanation for it, but still it isn't a usual type of reaction to that kind of injury."  
  
"Great, Bones' amnesia isn't a usual case. That doesn't say anything about why he still doesn't remember anything. It just sounds like a convenient excuse."  
  
M'Benga sighed and pushed away from the workstation he had been leaning against.  
  
"Captain, I don't know what you want to hear from me. Leonard's case is unusual to begin with. And if he hadn't regained any memories at all during the past four days then yes, I would be worried. But he did regain some of his memories."  
  
" _Two_. He remembers _two_ things. If the memories keep coming back at that rate, our mission will be over before he remembers it all."  
  
"But he does remember, which means that most likely there's no physical problem to his brain that keeps him from remembering."  
  
Jim shook his head. "So what? You're trying to tell me that he doesn't want to remember?"  
  
"No. But maybe there is _something_ he doesn't want to remember, even if he isn't aware of it."  
  
"Only yesterday he remembered his father's death!" Jim took an angry step forward, hands balling into fists at his side in frustration. He remembered only too well how much that experience had shaken Bones, and how helpless he had felt when all he had been able to do was sit by and watch. "Trust me that if there's a list of things he doesn't want to remember, _that_ would be right on top."  
  
"We're not talking about a ranking of bad memories here, Captain. And I'm not trying to find a definite explanation, all I'm trying to do is explain to you why I think there could be a reason why Leonard doesn't remember much yet. All I'm saying is it's absolutely possible that his brain is trying to protect itself."  
  
"By not remembering." On the long list of things that hadn't made sense over the past days, that one was pretty far on top.  
  
"By holding back the memory of something specific. Something unresolved, something he's been struggling with. Normally, with amnesia patients anything can trigger a memory to return. And once that starts, it doesn't usually continue as sporadically as it does in Leonard's case. So yes, I think it is possible that his brain is holding back memories because he's not yet ready to deal with them. But at one point he will remember whatever that is, and I'm convinced that then his memories will return a lot faster than they do now. We have to give him that time."  
  
Jim no longer knew what to believe or not. He trusted M'Benga's professional assessment, but he hated the thought that there might be something going on with Bones, something he was struggling with that his own brain needed to protect him from by not remembering. And even worse, that Bones was struggling with something severe enough to have this impact and Jim didn't even know about it.  
  
"Or maybe he just doesn't have the right trigger."  
  
M'Benga raised an eyebrow, visibly confused. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean that you said yourself we should settle Bones into his normal routines because it would help him remember. And with the few things he remembered, it worked. But…Doc, he's trying to remember a marriage that doesn't exist. He keeps asking me all those questions about us and our relationship, and none of that is real. Even if I tell him things that are, he's always trying to make it fit into the lies I told him. It's not all that surprising that he doesn't remember if the thing he's trying to remember most is not even real, right?"  
  
M'Benga sighed.  
  
"There's nothing we can do about that, Captain. We decided to stick with the lie about your marriage, and telling him the truth now would probably have devastating effects. All we can do is try to shift his focus a little, maybe help him focus on something other than your relationship."  
  
Jim wasn't too sure what to think about that.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I was about to make the proposal to put Leonard back on full duty as soon as possible."  
  
That suggestion caught Jim by surprise.  
  
"You were?"  
  
M'Benga nodded. "Yes. I've been watching Leonard over the past days, and his amnesia does not affect his work in any way. He's fit to go back to full duty both physically and mentally, and if we're lucky it might help his recovery. It's what he normally does, after all."  
  
Jim nodded absently, not entirely convinced by what M'Benga proposed. It sounded like too little. There had to be more they could do for Bones, a lot more to help him get back to normal. He didn't know what exactly, he only knew that there had to be something.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
Jim shook his head to clear the thoughts. "Sorry, Doc. If you think it's a good idea to put Bones back on full duty, then we should do that. I trust your judgment."  
  
M'Benga carefully regarded Jim, and he recognized it as the kind of gaze Bones always used when he knew Jim was holding something back. Jim had no idea if having some sort of bullshit detector was part of being a doctor, but it definitely was something M'Benga shared with Bones.  
  
"Captain? I get the feeling that there's something else."  
  
Jim drew a deep breath.  
  
"Is there any other form of therapy that might help Bones get his memory back faster? Other than having Spock root around in his mind, I mean."  
  
"Captain, I assure you that a mind meld is not as dangerous as you're implying it is…"  
  
Jim waved the doctor off before M'Benga could finish.  
  
"I know what you're going to say, Doc. And I understand where you're coming from. What I mean is other than _that_ , is there anything else that might help Bones?"  
  
M'Benga thought for a moment.  
  
"It's difficult to say, Sir. There's no medication or established form of therapy because in every case the cause for the amnesia is different. There are cases where hypnosis had some effect, but as far as I know we don't have anybody aboard who is trained in that. I know how frustrating it must be, but the best and most non-invasive way to help Leonard right now is to give his brain enough time to recover on its own."  
  
It sounded so easy. The only problem was that Jim had no idea how he was supposed to do that.  
  
M'Benga shifted from one foot to the other, and he was still regarding Jim with that penetrating gaze.  
  
"What is the real problem, Captain?"  
  
Jim sighed. He didn't want to explain the whole personal mess he was caught up in, but suddenly it seemed impossible to hold it all in.  
  
"This stays between us?"  
  
M'Benga nodded. "I'm bound by confidentiality, unless it concerns the safety of the ship."  
  
Jim drew a deep breath.  
  
"He kissed me."  
  
He didn't elaborate any further, didn't tell the doctor that it hadn't happened just once, but twice, or that he had been a willing participant the second time around. And he didn't even want to think about the fact that the Nibilian High Senator had read his mind and let him see Bones despite the lie about their marriage. That was something he didn't even want to think about right now, and confidentiality or not, it wasn't something he was going to discuss with anybody else.  
  
M'Benga's reaction was not exactly one of surprise.  
  
"We should have thought about that."  
  
"Yeah, we really should have."  
  
"Listen, I know it's hard, but once Leonard has his memory back I'm sure the two of you will be able to get that cleared up."  
  
Jim shook his head. "It's not that, Doc. I'm not worried that this…the kiss is going to screw anything up." And now he wasn't only lying to Bones, but to M'Benga as well. Of course he was worried that as soon as Bones remembered everything, that kiss and the fact that Jim had kissed him back was going to have a serious fallout. But that was something Jim was going to deal with when the time came. Right now it was that never-ending tally of lies he was stacking up that was driving him mad.  
  
"It's not the kiss. It's the _lies_ that I can't take anymore. Every time Bones and I talk, there's even more lies I have to tell him so that he doesn't notice anything. It just keeps adding up, Doc. Bones is desperately trying to remember this marriage, but it never existed in the first place. It's not real, but he believes it is. I try to keep him from asking too many questions about it all, and whenever I do that he gets the feeling that I'm pushing him away. Whatever I do, it's bound to hurt Bones either now or later on, and I just can't keep doing that."  
  
M'Benga sighed. "I'm afraid that right now there's no other choice."  
  
"There has to be! Damn it, Bones is my best friend, I can't keep doing that to him. And I can't keep doing that to myself. I have to watch every damn little thing I say, I'm constantly worried that I'm going to slip up, and then there's that damn hopeful expression in his eyes whenever I tell him something about us because he doesn't know that it's yet another fucking lie. I can't keep doing that, Doc. I want Bones back, the way he was before and not the way he is now! I can't go on like that, not for any longer."  
  
There was no immediate reply from M'Benga, and silence settled between them which was only interrupted by the gentle hum of the machines and the hiss of a door somewhere in the distance. M'Benga turned his head at the sound, but the lab was empty save for the two of them. With a sigh he turned back towards Jim.  
  
"I will put Leonard back on full duty from tomorrow on, Captain. Three more shifts plus four more on-call shifts per week. It'll still save him most of his usual paperwork, but it should keep him occupied far more than he is now. I hate to tell you this, but I think it's the only thing we can do right now."  
  
Jim ran a hand over his face and through his hair. He had been afraid M'Benga was going to say that, but deep down he had still been hoping that there was another way out of this mess.  
  
"All right, then we're going to try that. Thanks, Doc."  
  
M'Benga nodded wordlessly, and as Jim straightened up and turned to leave, he turned back towards his workstation and whatever experiment he had been working on earlier. The main room of Sickbay wasn't any more busy than it had been earlier. Lieutenant Harper had been declared free of the bloodworms and released earlier today, and save for two of the nurses who were watching a young ensign from Engineering work on the display of the diagnostic scanner, the room was blissfully empty. Jim caught sight of Bones, his eyes automatically drawn at a flash of broad shoulders dressed in a blue shirt, but he had his back turned to Jim and vanished into his office before Jim even had the chance to call out to him. Jim should be on his way to the Bridge too, so he crossed Sickbay towards the exit, nodding at the nurses and the ensign from Engineering on his way out.  
  
Maybe M'Benga was right.  
  
Bones normally worked far more shifts than he worked now, and often enough he stayed in Sickbay or in his office long after he was already off duty. If there was anything that was going to help him remember his normal life and would distract him from this alleged marriage, it was work.  
  
  
  
Sadly, the same couldn't be said for Jim. Work was anything but a welcome distraction, not that he had really expected it. Being in stationary orbit while Spock was down there negotiating with the Nibilian High Senate was boring, and there was no nice way to describe it. It was boring and didn't really provide any distraction from the thoughts running through his mind. If anything, the boredom on the bridge was the right breeding ground for morose thoughts.  
  
Or not so morose thoughts, come to think of it.  
  
Kissing Bones was many things, but morose wasn't one of them. It had been exciting yet tender, something new and at the same time it had felt like finally coming home. It had felt _right_. It wasn't ever going to repeat itself, he knew that. He couldn't let it happen again while Bones was still suffering from amnesia, and once Bones had his memory back it was going to be hard enough to salvage their friendship from the mess he had made of it.  
  
It was ridiculous to think that Bones would ever want…more. That he'd ever want Jim. And that was okay. It was going to have to do, and Jim wasn't ungrateful enough to ever think that Bones friendship wasn't enough. For the sake of that, he'd have to forget about anything else he was feeling.  
  
More than that, for the sake of their friendship Jim was _willing_ to ignore anything else he might be feeling. Bones meant more to Jim than anybody had meant to him in a long time. Maybe ever, but even if that was the case Jim wasn't yet willing to admit how pathetic his life had been before the day he had boarded that shuttle to San Francisco.  
  
The negotiations were going well, and at the end of his shift Jim spent another hour debriefing Spock about the progress of the day. If all went well, they'd be able to transmit their results to Starfleet and break orbit in the next six or seven days. At least something was going right, and Jim was a Captain with all his heart. He'd always prefer to have his personal life fucked up as long as everything was good with the crew and the ship.  
  
It didn't help though, not really. Jim still felt a knot of anticipation form in his stomach as he left his Ready Room and took the turbolift down to his quarters. That kiss was still on his mind, no matter how much Jim tried not to think about it. They hadn't talked about it. Had all but pretended that it hadn't happened. But that didn't make it undone, and it didn't stop the feeling that Jim wanted nothing more in the world than to do it again.  
  
Stopping in front of his door, Jim drew a deep breath. He could do this. He only had to punch in his code and face Bones as if nothing had happened. They had been friends for the better part of five years, of course he could do it.  
  
The lights were on, which meant that Bones was home, and as he stepped into the room Jim found Bones sitting on the sofa. He has his elbows leaning on his thighs, head bent forward, and Jim forced himself not to let his gaze linger as he stepped fully into the room and turned towards the bedroom.  
  
"Hey. Do you want to go to the mess and grab something to eat? I just need to change out of my uniform."  
  
Bones looked up, and there was something in his gaze that made Jim stop short.  
  
"No."  
  
Jim stopped, and because there was no way to avoid it anymore he turned to face Bones. The other man was looking at him, and there was something in his gaze that made Jim's heart speed up. There was something unrelenting in that gaze, something pained yet at the same time disappointed, sad, and angry, though Jim was absolutely unable to tell which emotion was the strongest. All he knew was that there was something in his gaze that made a very ugly feeling settle in Jim's gut.  
  
Something was wrong here.  
  
"Bones, what's wrong?"  
  
"We need to talk."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**  
  
An ugly feeling started to settle in the pit of Jim's stomach at those words. No good conversation had ever started with the words _we need to talk_. None. And Jim had the distinct feeling that this one wasn't going to be the exception to the rule, either.  
  
He didn't even dare to get his hopes up about what this could possibly be about. If Bones had regained some of his memories, he wouldn't be sitting here like that, so extremely tense underneath a seemingly calm façade.  
  
"Okay," Jim said, inwardly congratulating himself that he managed to keep his voice carefully even, despite the growing knot of anticipation in his stomach. He sat down in one of the armchairs so that he was facing Bones, hands resting on this thighs even though the urge to rub them nervously against the fabric of his uniform pants was nearly overwhelming.  
  
"About what?"  
  
Bones drew a deep breath, then looked up at Jim. There was still something in his eyes that Jim couldn't quite define, and it did nothing to easy his anticipation.  
  
"I've done some thinking today, and I had a long talk with Geoffrey. I'm going to talk to Spock later today, but I wanted to talk to you first."  
  
Jim knew that he should understand what all this was about, but right now his mind had some serious problems trying to keep up with the conversation. He had expected some sort of fallout, even if he wasn't too clear on what exactly, but this calm announcement threw him for a loop.  
  
"About what?" He repeated, sounding somewhat dumb to his own ears.  
  
"I'm going to ask Spock to do the mind meld."  
  
It felt like a blow to Jim's stomach, and a completely unexpected one at that. With everything that had happened since the previous evening, he had completely forgotten about Spock's suggestion. Bones had said he was going to think about it, but still, Jim had thought – or maybe hoped – that they wouldn't need to ever mention it again.  
  
And for all that he hadn't thought about this anymore, his reaction was instinctive and immediate.  
  
"What? No, you can't!"  
  
A weary sigh escaped Bones' lips, just as if he had already guessed that this conversation was going to take that particular turn.  
  
"I told you, I thought about it. All day long."  
  
"Well, then obviously you've got to think about it again!"  
  
Bones got up from the sofa and started to pace up and down, and Jim slowly pushed himself out of his armchair, unwilling to remain sitting while Bones was towering above him like this.  
  
"What the hell is your problem?" Jim knew that tone of voice, and his knee-jerk reaction was to protest before Bones could talk himself into one of his tirades. But as he drew a breath to reply, Bones immediately cut him off. "No, I'm serious! I thought you want for this to be over just as much as I do! You keep saying that you want for me to get better, yet the first time someone comes with an actual idea on how to speed the process along you are dead set against it!"  
  
"You'd be against it, too, if you still remembered what your relationship to Spock is like. You wouldn't want him to poke around in your mind!"  
  
Jim didn't want to, but he couldn't help the way his voice rose. They always fought like that, tempers flaring up easily until each of them was trying to drown out the other by sheer volume alone, fights and yelling that went forgotten just as quickly as they flared up.  
  
"But that's the damn problem!" Bones yelled right back. " _If I still remembered_. But I don't! I don't remember what I think of Spock, or anybody else. I don't remember anything. No wait, that's not true. I do remember something. I remember that you looked like you pushed your face through a meat grinder the first time we met, and I remember that I killed my own father. That's it. Nothing else. And it doesn't look as if the rest is coming back on its own anytime soon. I don't remember anything about my own damn life. I don't know what turned me into the man who ended up becoming CMO on this ship. I don't remember my marriage, or why it ended in a divorce. Damn it, I don't even remember what my own daughter's voice sounds like! All I know is that Spock is offering a way to find out why I still can't remember anything, and instead of being glad about that, you act as if he had suggested something horrible! I don't get you, Jim!"  
  
Jim didn't understand it himself. Or rather, he did, he understood only too well. He just couldn't find the words to explain to Bones that his relationship with Spock was a complicated mixture of mutual trust and appreciation, yet with an underlying wariness due to which Bones would be extremely hesitant to ever agree to a mind meld. If there was any other way, he would never allow it, and Jim simply knew that.  
  
"Just trust me on this, okay? You trust Spock when it's about the Enterprise. You trust his professional judgment. But you don't trust him with your mind. Not…not if there's any other way."  
  
"But maybe there isn't, Jim." Bones ran his hands through his hair in frustration, mussing it all up in the process. "I might not remember who I am, but I still remember what I learned in med school. It's not normal that I don't remember anything, and it's not normal that the memories aren't coming back. So if something's wrong, the next step is to look for a way to fix it. Only you don't!"  
  
"I am! Trust me that I am. But I know that a mind meld is not the answer you're looking for. And I won't let you do anything that I know you wouldn't do under normal circumstances."  
  
Bones' eyes grew almost comically wide, his hazel irises darkening in anger. "You won't _let_ me? Is that how it normally works, you tell me what to do and I don't get a say?"  
  
"That's not what I said…"  
  
"But it's what you act like!" Bones was pacing again, one hand buried in his hair while he gestured wildly with the other. "Is that how our marriage works, that you expect me to do as you say?"  
  
"What? No!"  
  
"Well, great!" Bones snarled. "Because you can't. It's not your choice to make, it's mine. And if Spock's offer still stands, I'm going to accept it. End of discussion."  
  
There was a finality to Bones' words, and Jim's frustration rose another notch. But he knew that shouting wasn't going to do much good, not when Bones had set his mind to something.  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
"What?"  
  
That apparent non-sequitur at least had the desired effect to pull Bones out of his anger for a second.  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
Bones was confused, but after a second he shrugged. "Damn it, what kind of a question is that?"  
  
"You need to trust me that you would never let Spock do this."  
  
"Damn it, Jim! Don't start this stupid crap with me. You're my husband, which damn well implies that I trust you, but in case you haven't noticed, my life isn't exactly normal right now. I don't know who to trust and what to believe. All I know is that Spock is offering me help to finally get rid of that fucking blank space in my head. And I damn well am going to take that chance, because I don't want to live like this for any longer. I've made my decision, and either you're with me on it or not. But stop trying to talk me out of it, and stop pulling unfair punches like asking me to trust you blindly!"  
  
Backing down wasn't something Jim was really capable of, not even when Bones all but ended the conversation with a final decision.  
  
"And what if it makes it only worse? Spock is no trained healer, what if he screws something up instead of making things better? It's been four days, there's still a chance that everything will come back on its own. Four days isn't enough to get so desperate to ask for Spock's help."  
  
Bones laughed mirthlessly. "It is if you don't remember a damn thing, trust me. And don't pretend to be all righteous about all this."  
  
This time it was Jim who was completely confused by the sudden change of topic.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"What I mean is that you can spare yourself the talk about how I'm supposed to wait. What's next, you'll try to tell me that you don't mind being married to someone whose mind is just a blank slate? That you're going to patiently sit this one out, no matter how long it takes? That you're fucking _fine_ with everything as long as I am?"  
  
"Of course I am…"  
  
"No, you're not!"  
  
Jim flinched back at the unexpected sharpness in Bones' tone. The underlying anger and disappointment in his voice was even worse than the sheer volume of his outburst.  
  
"What are you even talking about?"  
  
"Oh, that's rich, Jim. Really rich, coming from you. You want to play the stupid game? Fine, then let me spell it out for you. I'm talking about the fact that you keep telling me that you're just fine with everything that's going on, and then you're running to Geoffrey behind my back and complain about how I'm not the man you're used to anymore. I'm talking about how you tell me that you're going to take whatever's going to come next, but as soon as my back is turned you're saying that you can't go on like that anymore. And I get it, I really do. I get that this situation doesn't only suck for me. But on the same day that you say you can't go on like that, you all but forbid me to do the one thing that might actually help me! That's what I don't get, Jim!"  
  
Jim suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe. Bones had heard him talking to M'Benga earlier, and if he had heard everything Jim had said, then this was only the prelude to something very, very ugly. Nevertheless, he managed to kept the gut-wrenching fear he felt at that moment out of his voice and muster up plenty of indignation to replace it.  
  
"You've been listening in on M'Benga and me?"  
  
"I wasn't listening in!" Bones waved that remark off angrily. "I went to the lab because I was looking for Geoffrey. I work in that medical bay, damn it, and I had no clue that you were even there! It wasn't my fault that I came into the room at the exact moment when you were yelling at Geoffrey about how you can't go on like this anymore, so don't try to change the topic. That's not what this is all about."  
  
Well, that was just fucking brilliant, because Jim for sure no longer had any clue what it was all about.  
  
"Then what? What is your big issue with all this? So yeah, maybe I'm not always dealing as well as I say, but you have enough shit to deal with right now without me adding anything else to that."  
  
"You lied to me, Jim!" And more than anything, that one sentence tightened the vice in Jim's gut so that he didn't think he'd ever breathe freely again.  
  
"I…"  
  
"And I don't care if you thought it was for my best, but you _lied_ to me. You tell me one thing, and the moment my back is turned you're saying something else entirely. So tell me how I'm still supposed to know what to believe, Jim, when I have no idea what else you've been saying behind my back! If you're not honest with me about this, what else have you been twisting the truth about? And now you're asking me to just trust what you tell me about the mind meld! Are you seriously still wondering why I'm going to follow my own gut on this one, no matter what you say?"  
  
Something icy settled at the base of Jim's spine, and he could only hope that his face wasn't betraying the turmoil that was going on in his head.  
  
"I haven't been lying to you." And damn if that wasn't the biggest lie of them all, the one that was undoubtedly going to come back to haunt him later. "I had a moment of frustration, and I went to M'Benga instead of letting it out on you. I didn't tell you everything, that's all. When exactly did keeping something from you turn into lying?"  
  
"When it's about important things. You ask me to trust you, but you're not extending the same fucking courtesy to me, Jim. When you're not being upfront with me about one thing, how can I know what else you're not honest about? I have no fucking clue what else you're keeping from me, or what other things you've been twisting around because you've got the stupid idea stuck in your head that you have to take care of my delicate mental state! What am I supposed to believe, Jim? What else did you keep from me because you didn't want to bother me with them? Does the crew hate me, am I a horrible person, are we headed for a divorce, what is it?"  
  
Before he knew what was happening, Jim had his hands fisted in the front of Bones' shirt and was shaking him non too gently.  
  
"We are not getting a divorce!"  
  
The fierceness of his words and the strength of his emotions took Jim completely by surprise. Here he was, defending a marriage that didn't even exist. And not just because he wanted to keep up the illusion for Bones' sake. No, this was something that ran far deeper. Their marriage might not be real, but if there was one lesson Jim had learned over the past four days, then it was that despite all the stupid things he had done during his life, he'd never be stupid enough to let Bones go. Never.  
  
Bones brushed Jim's hands off and took a step back, staring at him from wide eyes.  
  
"Whatever," he growled out. "My mind's made up. I'm going to ask Spock to do the mind meld, and right now I don't give a damn whether you like it or not."  
  
Bones turned around and left without giving Jim a chance to say anything else. The door slid shut behind him, and if a sliding door could slam, this one would have.  
  
Jim stared at the spot Bones had left for what felt like a small eternity, but his knees felt strangely weak and he had to sit down on the armchair he had previously vacated.  
  
Damn it.  
  
This was exactly what he had been worried about. If Bones reacted this badly to finding out that Jim hadn't told him everything, if _this_ already constituted lying in his eyes, Bones was going to freak out completely once he found out about the really bad lies.  
  
And Jim was still lucky that Bones had come into the lab when he had, and not a minute earlier. If that had happened, things would be a lot worse right now.  
  
Jim didn't understand himself. He had _known_ that at one point Bones was going to find out the truth about their relationship. And he had known that it wasn't going to be pretty, but only now he understood just how much was at stake here. Jim didn't want to lose their friendship, not ever. And maybe – he hoped probably – they'd be able to salvage that once Bones understood that those lies hadn't been told with bad intent.  
  
But Jim wanted more. He didn't know where it was coming from, but those four days of pretend-marriage to Bones had given him a glimpse of something he hadn't even known he wanted. But damn it, he wanted it. He wanted to be closer to Bones than a friend. And everything he had seen as a nuisance before – the cramped quarters where his stuff inevitably got mixed up with Bones', the shared bed and all the enforced proximity – all those were things Jim didn't want to give up once Bones got his memory back. It was yet another selfish thought to add to his ever-growing list, but there was no denying it.  
  
Jim wanted Bones, in a way no best friend was ever supposed to want the other, and once this whole thing blew up in their faces he was going to be lucky to escape with a smidgeon of what they had before this whole crap had started.  
  
Maybe this really was his very own no-win scenario. Fuck the Kobayashi Maru, compared to this that one had been a walk in the park.  
  
For the rest of the evening, Jim busied himself around his quarters. He ate dinner from the replicator instead of going to mess hall. He didn't feel like seeing anyone right now, didn't feel like looking over his shoulder all the time to make sure that Bones wasn't in the vicinity to overhear something he shouldn't be hearing. And also, if he was honest with himself, Jim wanted to be there when Bones came back. Hell, he was even going to be all supportive about the mind meld and whatever else a good husband was supposed to be. If Bones wanted the meld, Jim wasn't going to talk him out of it. He'd hold his fucking hand if that's what Bones wanted. He just wanted this whole thing resolved and for things to be back to normal between them.  
  
But Bones didn't come back that evening.  
  
Jim wasn't worried. He knew that Bones was simply spending the night somewhere else, most probably on the cot in his office that he normally used to crash for a little while during a crisis situation. And wasn't it the peak of irony that they were having their first marital argument long before either of them had said the words _I do_.  
  
Around midnight Jim finally gave up waiting and admitted defeat. Bones wasn't going to come back for the night, so he'd better go to bed and try to get some sleep before his shift tomorrow morning.  
  
Jim really needed to talk to the Quartermaster about his mattress. Something was seriously wrong with it, despite the fact that now he finally had his bed back to himself for the night. He kept tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, and irrevocably ended up rolling into the middle, face pressed into Bones' pillow. Four nights, and the pillow already smelled of Bones as if it had been his for years now. It was no substitute for the feeling of Bones lying beside him, or the feeling of the other man's body in his arms, but eventually Jim rolled onto Bones' side of the bed and drifted off to sleep.  
  
Only to be torn out of it again what felt like just a few minutes later by the sound of Sulu's voice.  
  
"Captain to the Bridge."  
  
Over the initial confusion of what Sulu's voice was doing in his bedroom, those words immediately had Jim wide awake and reaching for the comm button on the wall panel beside his bed.  
  
"Kirk here. I'm on my way."  
  
Jim was no stranger to interruptions to his nightly sleep, and he didn't even have to turn on the lights to pull out a set of fresh clothes, put them on and shrug into his boots in under a minute. A splash of cold water on his face later, Jim was convinced that he was as awake as he was going to get, and hurried out of the room towards the turbolift.  
  
He only had time to check his chrono during the short turbolift ride. It was six in the morning, still two hours before gamma shift was going to be replaced by alpha. Jim stepped onto the bridge a moment later, by now so used to it that he completely ignored the call of "Captain on the Bridge," and the way all eyes turned towards him for a second before everybody went back to their respective tasks. Sulu was sitting in the command chair, but he got up immediately as Jim approached.  
  
There was the hiss of the turbolift behind him, and from the corner of his eyes Jim saw Uhura walk past him and take over her station from the lieutenant who had been manning it in her absence. Jim sat down in his chair and turned to face Sulu again.  
  
"Lieutenant?"  
  
"We intercepted a distress signal on a Federation frequency. An Andorian freighter is requesting assistance."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Jim swiveled his chair to be able to look at Uhura, but she was shaking her head, fingers pressing her earpiece tightly against her ear.  
  
"They're not responding, Captain. It's an automated distress signal. _Ship under attack by unknown alien vessel, requesting immediate assistance._ "  
  
With a court nod, Jim swiveled the chair back.  
  
"Go to yellow alert. Hail the Andorian ship again and tell them that we're responding to their call, on the off-chance that they might hear it. Alert medical and have them prepare for incoming casualties. Then contact the Nibilian High Council and let them know about the situation. Tell them whatever they need to hear for this not to become a diplomatic incident, and let them know that we'll return to resume negotiations as soon as this emergency is dealt with."  
  
"Aye Sir." Uhura responded, not at all fazed by the list of tasks that needed to get done as quickly as possible, simultaneously if at all possible. Jim swiveled his chair back to the front of the bridge.  
  
"Lieutenant Sulu, set a course."  
  
"Aye Sir. Course set."  
  
"Maximum warp."  
  
"Aye."  
  
Sulu punched in the commands, and a moment later the peaceful view of the planet on the view screen was replaced by stars that shifted into blurred lines of light as the Enterprise entered warp.  
  
"Contact Starfleet and let them know what's going on."  
  
"Aye," Uhura replied shortly without even looking up from her consoles.  
  
"What's our ETA?"  
  
"Nineteen minutes at maximum warp."  
  
Nineteen minutes wasn't much, but to a ship locked in battle it could as well be an eternity. Jim only hoped that there was still an Andorian ship to help once they managed to get there. But at least those nineteen minutes gave them time to prepare for whatever was going to come at them.  
  
It were also nineteen agonizingly slow minutes for Jim, minutes during which he could only sit in his chair and stare at the display of stars swishing by as they sped through vast space. Nineteen minutes to imagine what could possibly await them. And the possibilities were endless – it could be anything. The Andorians could have managed to fight off their attackers on their own without sustaining much damage, but Enterprise could just as well encounter nothing but a field of debris once they dropped out of warp. That, and anything in between.  
  
Jim really hoped for the first possibility, or for something in between.  
  
That hope was torn away the moment Sulu announced their imminent arrival and the entire bridge crew turned their attention to the view screen as Jim gave the command to drop out of warp. The image of stars shooting past them was instantly replaced by a view of weapon's fire, explosions and destruction.  
  
It was that moment when Jim instantly stopped thinking about hopes and what ifs and focused all his attention on the here and now, and his own task in all of this. There'd be time to assess the damage to the Andorian vessel later, once their attackers were dealt with.  
  
The ship attacking the Andorian freighter was not one Jim recognized, a fact that was confirmed by Spock's assessment that the database provided no match for either the ship or his weapon's signature. They didn't respond to any hails and instead continued targeting the Andorian ship despite Enterprise's presence. Jim had no clue if it was recklessness or a death wish, seeing that both the Andorian ship as well as the alien one were no match for Enterprise in either size or weaponry. The first warning shot impacted across the alien ship's bow, and the second volley of phaser fire took out their shield generator.  
  
It was at that moment that the alien ship decided they'd better make a run for it and forget about whatever had caused them to attack the Andorians in the first place. As soon as their shields were down, they went to warp and vanished into the blackness of space.  
  
The choice was to either follow them or assess the damage to the Andorian ship first, and considering that the Andorian ship was in bad shape, with multiple hull breaches and still not making any move to reply to Enterprise's hails, it wasn't a choice to begin with. Spock could analyze the alien vessel's warp trail later, and then they'd see about whether following them made any sense. Right now their priority was helping out the other crew. Jim got out of his chair.  
  
"Keep hailing them, Lieutenant, and let them know we're coming aboard. Chekov, you have the conn. Let us know immediately if those aliens come back. Mr. Spock, Mr. Sulu, you're with me. I want a Security team to meet us in the transporter room, we're going to beam over."  
  
As they made their way through the corridors towards the transporter room, Jim got the feeling that this was going to be come a very long day.  
  
It turned out Jim was right, and that there were moments when he really hated being right.  
  
The Andorian freighter was badly damaged. It had suffered from multiple hull breaches, and some sections of the ship were completely cut off from the rest until the necessary repairs were done to repressurize the space between. The ship's systems were damaged just as badly, the sensor data unreliable, and they had to rely blindly on instinct and the readings from Enterprise in order to find out where exactly aboard the crewmembers in need of help were. It took up a lot of time, and it was strenuous, at times grueling work until they had an overview over the situation.  
  
The freighter was carrying a load of dilithium, which would explain why the aliens had continued their attack even after Enterprise showed up. The crew consisted of fifty-five Andorians. At the end of a day of searching for survivors, crawling through maintenance shafts in an attempt to reach those Andorians who had been blocked in by the depressurization, thirty-two of them were alive and accounted for. There were eleven more they could only recover dead; the remaining twelve stayed unaccounted for, and it was no stretch of imagination to guess that they had been in those parts of the ship that had been hit so badly by weapon's fire that they depressurized. Jim doubted they were ever going to find a trace of those twelve Andorians.  
  
Of the thirty-two Andorian crewmen, barely a dozen were fit to keep the ship running. Jim lost track of how many emergency transports were made to Enterprise, or how many of his own crewmembers were beamed aboard the freighter. There was plenty of medical personnel around, treating to the smaller wounds while everyone was hoping that the freighter didn't collapse around them. Scotty's teams were working with the Andorian engineers to stabilize the ship and seal the hull again in those places where it had been breached, and Security transferred the dilithium from the freighter's damaged cargo bay to Enterprise's cargo hold, in case the pirates decided to come back.  
  
Jim didn't have a designated task in all this, but especially during those first hours aboard the Andorian freighter there was no shortage of things for him to do. The Andorian Captain was badly injured, and his First Officer hadn't escaped unscathed either. So Jim jumped in wherever he was needed – crawling through the ship and digging for survivors for the first couple of hours, then helping with the repairs of engine, shields and other critical systems for the next.  
  
He didn't beam back to the Enterprise until the ship's systems were as stable as they'd get them. Scotty's teams were working on the hull breaches in shifts, confident that they'd get the worst of them sealed until the following morning. The engines had received the least damage and were running, even though the ship wasn't ready for travel above anything but a quarter impulse. The shields were back online even if still nowhere near at 100%, and eventually Spock managed to convince Jim to beam back to Enterprise for the night while the Vulcan took over the job of overseeing the repairs.  
  
Starfleet had informed Andoria of the incident, and the Imperial Guard had dispatched a cruiser to come to their assistance at some point the following day to take over form Enterprise.  
  
All in all, the situation was bad, but it could have been a whole lot worse.  
  
Jim eventually returned to his quarters to catch up on a few hours of rest. He was surprised that it was already nearing the end of beta shift. He had been on his feet ever since 6 am that morning, and he knew every single minute of that time was going to catch up with him soon. But before he did anything else, Jim checked the reports from Medical.  
  
Two more Andorians had died during treatment, and Bones still had five Andorian patients listed as critical, but the rest of them were apparently stable with good chances of a speedy recovery.  
  
It could have been a lot worse, but that didn't mean any of this was good.  
  
Jim stood under the spray of the shower, the real water shower instead of the sonic one, for a long time, trying to wash of the soot, dirt and blood off his body. His uniform was beyond salvation, and Jim doubted that it was ever going to reappear again after he tossed it into the laundry chute.  
  
By all rights he should be dead on his feet. He hadn't slept much the previous night, and for the entire day he had been on his feet without a real break. Jim should want nothing more than something to eat and six solid hours of sleep, but even after a quick and tasteless sandwich from the replicator he was still nowhere near winding down.  
  
Everything that could be done had been done, or was still being done by the people trained and equipped for it, but still Jim couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more he should be doing. It was hard to let go and hand over the responsibility, if only for a little to give his body the rest that it needed. With a sigh, Jim sank down on the sofa and leaned his head into his hands. Fatigue would come if he only gave his body a little time to settle down.  
  
He was still staring at the floor between his boots, willing exhaustion and fatigue to finally come and take their claim, when the chime announced a visitor in front of his door. All thoughts of rest banished from his mind, Jim raised his head.  
  
"Enter."  
  
The door slid open to reveal Bones, and of all the people Jim had expected to see, he hadn't been one. Bones didn't ring the chime, ever. He knew the combination to his door, had known it long before this whole mess with the fake marriage had started. And now that he thought he was living here, there was no reason for him to announce his present instead of just walking in. Even if they had been fighting earlier.  
  
Bones' clothes were slightly rumpled and his hair was a mess. There were shadows underneath his eyes and Jim knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the other man hadn't gotten a minute's rest either since the yellow alert had sounded, but that wasn't what made Jim's heart give a funny lurch in his chest.  
  
Bones was pale, and he moved into the room with a strange mixture of trepidation, confusion and insecurity in his step. Something was not right here, and Jim was out of his seat before he even knew it.  
  
"Bones?"  
  
The other man looked up at him, his eyes hooded and lines with fatigue, but he didn't answer straight away.  
  
"Is anything wrong? Did any Andorians take a turn for the worse?"  
  
It was only half an hour since Jim had read the last update from Sickbay, but a lot could happen in that time. But Bones only shook his head.  
  
"No. No they're…it's nothing like that. Five of them are still critical, but if they make it through the night without incident their chances are good."  
  
He said those words in a flat voice, and if Jim had needed any indicator that something was wrong, this was it. Bones was always involved in his patient care and saw each injury as a personal affront. If he sounded like there were more important things on his mind than his patients, then something serious was up.  
  
"Then what's wrong?"  
  
"I…earlier, I was performing surgery on the Andorian Chief Engineer. And I remembered something."  
  
Jim's heart was beating fast in his chest and he took a step closer to the other man.  
  
"Bones, that's great!"  
  
But Bones only shook his head.  
  
"No. I don't…His injuries were serious, Jim. Broken bones, internal trauma, he was bleeding out right under my hands."  
  
Jim knew that the Chief Engineer was one of the five Andorians who were in critical condition but alive, so the surgery probably wasn't the reason why Bones was worked up like that.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Bones shook his head. "I don't know. There was all that blood, everything was blue under my hands and I could barely see what I was working on. And suddenly I remembered what happened on Varga IV."  
  
That was a turn of the conversation Jim hadn't expected. Of course he remembered Varga IV, a mining colony they had visited a few months ago, but he didn't really understand why that particular memory had worked Bones in such a state. There had been a dispute amongst different mining corporations that Enterprise had been sent to settle, and Jim had gotten caught up in one fraction's attempt to put their competition out of business with a bunch of explosives. He had been injured, but not all that badly. Besides, that was in the past, and he had recovered quickly from those injuries. No reason for Bones to be this worked up about it.  
  
"What about Varga IV do you remember?"  
  
Bones swallowed, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse.  
  
"I remember that I was in the transporter room when they beamed you and that Andorian corporate official aboard. And I remember that he was more dead than alive, and that I had to do the surgery on him because Andorians aren't exactly Geoffrey's specialty. And I remember how the only thing I could think about during the surgery was that he was treating you one room over, and that there had been too much blood all over you, but that I couldn't do a damn thing about it."  
  
Jim took another step forward and carefully put a hand on Bones' arm.  
  
"It was a head wound, Bones. You know that they bleed like mad, but it wasn't anything serious. A gash, a mild concussion and a dislocated shoulder from being knocked around. I was up and about in a matter of hours."  
  
He was surprised and a little shocked when Bones brushed off his hand and took a step back.  
  
"I remember that all I could think of during the surgery was that as soon as some warring factions have nothing better to do than try to bomb each other into oblivion, my idiot of a best friend has nothing better to do than stand right in the middle of it, and that I couldn't even do a damn thing to make sure you wouldn't lose a limb, or a whole lot of brain cells from it."  
  
"Bones, I…"  
  
Bones cut him off with a harsh gesture.  
  
"That was in May, Jim. Less than two months ago." Bones voice was shaking, and when he looked up at Jim there was undisguised anguish in his gaze. "We were friends then. Best friends, but nothing more than friends. We…we've never been more than friends."  
  
Jim took a step back as Bones repeated the words once again, as if he still couldn't believe them.  
  
"We've never been more than friends."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**  
  
Jim froze, hands still raised from where Bones had shrugged them off his arms. For a moment, it felt as if he was suspended in icy water which drowned out all sounds except the rapid beating of his own heart. The chill he felt was encompassing his entire body, and he couldn't move, couldn't think beyond the frantic denial that was rising up inside of his mind.  
  
No. No, no, _no_. Not this. Not now.  
  
"Bones…"  
  
The name tore from his lips without conscious thought, and Bones took another step back as if he had been slapped.  
  
"What's going on, Jim?"  
  
His voice was hoarse, laced with so much confusion and outright pain that it felt like a slap in the face to Jim. _He_ had put that there. His lie was the reason why Bones was feeling like this right now, and even though he had known that this point was going to come, even though he had hoped for Bones to finally get his memory back, he didn't want _this_ to be one of the steps along the way.  
  
There were words on the tip of his tongue, ready to blurt out without running through any mental filters first, and Jim had to force himself to keep his mouth shut. What could he possibly say? _I can explain_? _It isn't what it looks like_? Or maybe another clichéd catchphrase that people used when they were caught in a lie? He owed Bones an explanation, he knew that. But…he didn't even have a clue where to possibly begin.  
  
"Bones, I…what do you remember?"  
  
He was stalling, and he knew that Bones knew he was stalling. There was a twitch to the other man's left eye that only ever happened when he was working himself up in a state, and suddenly Jim knew with absolute certainty that the epic freak-out he had been worried about ever since this whole mess had started was immanent, and that anything he could possibly say was only going to make it much, much worse.  
  
"Damn it, Jim! I have no idea what the hell is going on in my head, but I know for a fact that we've never been married! Yet for the past days you've gone out of your way to pretend that we are, and now I want to know what the hell is going on!"  
  
"It's complicated."  
  
"I don't give a fuck, Jim! What the hell? We're friends! I trusted you! But you tell me that we're married, of all things? Why would you do that? Why go all these lengths," he angrily waved a hand through the room, encompassing the way their belongings had gotten mixed up over the past couple of days in the gesture, "just to make me believe that we're married when we're not? I don't get it, Jim!"  
  
Jim didn't know what to say. He still had no idea where he was supposed to start explaining so that Bones was going to believe him, and so that he wasn't going to cause any damage they weren't going to be able to repair.  
  
"I didn't know, okay? I didn't know that you were going to wake up without your memory!"  
  
Bones shook his head. The anger was slowly but surely starting to replace whatever confusion and hurt had been showing on his face earlier, and Jim felt a small surge of hope from that, as crazy as it sounded. An angry Bones he could deal with, or so he thought.  
  
"And that makes it okay? For fuck's sake, Jim, you've done some absolutely stupid shit before, but this really tops it all. I trusted you! You have no idea what it's like to wake up and not remember a single fucking thing about my own life. I trusted you. I trusted everything you told me! I _had_ to trust you because I didn't remember anything on my own and damn it, I _wanted_ to trust you. I thought you were my husband, of course I wanted to trust you. And every word out of your mouth was a lie! Every damn word! So what possible reason could there be for you to lie to me like that?"  
  
Jim drew a breath to reply, but Bones shrugged him off before he could even get a word out.  
  
"There is none," Bones answered his own question. "No damn reason to justify what you did. You don't lie to your friends, Jim. Not about the small things, and not about something as big as this!"  
  
"It's not like I wanted for this to happen!" Jim all but yelled, determined to get a word in before Bones talked himself in a state where he wasn't going to listen to anything Jim had to say anymore. He nearly jumped when suddenly Bones was right there, hazel eyes darkening in barely concealed fury as he roughly grabbed the front of Jim's uniform and shook him.  
  
"But you let it happen!" Bones let go of him, pushing Jim back slightly. "Worse, you orchestrated it all! You moved all my stuff here, you fed me all these lies about our relationship and our alleged marriage, and on top of that you had the audacity to pretend that you were interested in how I was feeling, that you were interested in me getting better!"  
  
"But I did!"  
  
"If you did, you wouldn't have lied to me in the first place! But you did. One lie after another, you made me believe that all this was real! And worse, you got the whole damn crew to play along with your little charade! Did it ever occur to you that I have to _work_ aboard this ship? I'm the Chief Medical Officer, for crying out loud, people need to have at least a modicum of respect for me to do my job! How the hell is that supposed to happen if they've just spent four days laughing their asses off about their idiot CMO who thinks he's married to their Captain? This whole damn thing could cost me my job, not to mention what little remains of my dignity and self respect!"  
  
No. That wasn't going to happen, and Jim wasn't going to let Bones believe it for just a second. If only he could make the other man understand what the reason for the lie had been, but faced with Bones' anger and the underlying hurt he suddenly found it hard to get a coherent sentence out against the lump in his throat.  
  
He'd never hurt Bones. Never intentionally. Bones had to know that.  
  
"That's not going to happen, Bones. Everyone knew…"  
  
"That's right, Jim! _Everyone_ knew! Every damn person on this ship knew that I had lost my memory, and everyone spent the past days watching how I made an ass of myself! Was that it, Jim? Did you all need a good laugh? Did the crew morale need some boosting, and grumpy old Leonard McCoy just lost his memory at a convenient time?"  
  
"No!" Jim took a step forward and once more made move to put his hand on Bones' shoulder, but the other man slapped him away.  
  
"Don't touch me!" He hissed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Don't you dare touch me, Jim. You have no right, just like you had no right to do anything you did over the past days. You had no right to keep the truth from me, to move me into your quarters and act as if we were married, of all things. Do you even know how bad I was feeling about all this? How bad I felt for _you_ in this whole mess, and how fucking grateful I was at how you handled the situation, and that you didn't try to pressure me?"  
  
Bones shook his head and his hands reflexively curled into fists at his side. Jim almost wished for Bones to punch him, for anything that could reduce the other man's anger and disappointment.  
  
"You made me try to remember something that didn't even exist!" Bones angrily kicked at Jim's desk. "I was wracking my brain, _trying_ to remember, for your sake as much as for mine, Jim! I thought you were suffering under the situation, too, and I didn't want to put you through any more of this than necessary! I thought that you had earned better. Damn, what an idiot I've been. But I guess you already knew that, right?"  
  
Something happened then, and Jim's gut clenched at the sudden shift in the room, as if the air had discharged of all its previous tension from one moment to the next. Bones' shoulders seemed to sag a little, and while there was still anger written all over his features, now he mostly looked defeated.  
  
"Only an idiot would have believed all those lies in the first place, right?" He laughed harshly, as if he had just made a joke only he could understand. "Which makes me the idiot here. Because I believed every damn lie that you fed me, Jim. You were so convincing, towards the end I really thought I understood why I…" He stopped himself mid-sentence. "Guess that makes me the king of idiots."  
  
Jim's breath caught in his throat. "You thought you understood what?"  
  
Bones shook his head. "Forget it, Jim. It's really not important."  
  
Bones' tone was resigned, but Jim couldn't disagree more. This was important. This was possibly the most important conversation Jim had ever held. He had no idea how it had slipped out of his control like that, but he couldn't possibly let it end without at least an attempt at making Bones understand.  
  
"Bones, please just let me explain."  
  
There it was, the awful cliché Jim had wanted to avoid at all costs, and it stood in the way of any future rational conversation like a glaring neon sign.  
  
"Explain what?" Bones snarled, all the previous rage back in his voice. "Why you lied to me? Why you embarrassed me in front of the entire crew? Or maybe why you let me fal…why you let all this happen between us when you knew that at one point I was going to remember that we were only friends? Do you really think you can come up with an explanation for all that? Don't bother trying Jim, there's no way that you can talk yourself out of this one. I trusted you. I needed to trust you, to be able to rely on you, and all you did was break that trust and screw me over. So whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it."  
  
Bones turned around, and there was no doubt whatsoever in Jim's mind that this was final. He couldn't let Bones leave now, not before he had gotten the chance to explain what this had really been about. It was ridiculous that he didn't even get a word in between, an explanation why the lie had been necessary in the first place.  
  
"Bones!"  
  
Bones was already at the door, and instead of reacting to Jim's call he slapped his palm hard against the control panel so that the door slid open.  
  
"Damn it Bones, you can't just storm off before I had the chance to explain!"  
  
Those words were enough to make Bones turn around, though Jim wished they hadn't when he saw the expression on the other man's face.  
  
"I don't want to hear it, Jim. I…I don't think I want to see you right now."  
  
Bones turned without waiting for an answer, stepping out of their – out of _Jim's_ quarters with his back straight and his shoulders squared, and all Jim could do was stand there and watch as he turned and vanished out of sight. The door swished shut with a pneumatic hiss, but it took a few more seconds for Jim's brain to process the message that he was staring at the blank metal of his door, and that Bones was gone.  
  
Slowly Jim turned around and made his way over towards his desk. For the second time that evening, he felt as if he had been dumped in icy water, his movements sluggish and requiring a lot more conscious effort than normally. His desk was the closest piece of furniture, and he was breathing inexplicably hard as he made his way towards it on legs that were far more unsteady than they should be. Jim sank down in his desk chair with a sigh that sounded like the first exhale after long minutes of holding his breath.  
  
Not like this.  
  
Whatever Jim had imagined Bones' reaction to look like once he found out, this hadn't been it. Of course Jim had known that shouting was going to be involved, and a lot of that true rage that Bones was capable of but hardly ever showed. Jim could deal with that. He could deal with Bones being absolutely pissed at him for his lie, because he knew that while Bones' temper flared easily, he was always open to reason and valid arguments once he had calmed down again.  
  
But this was different. This hadn't been anger or fury. That had been there, but what had left Jim reeling was the underlying hurt and disappointment that had shown so clearly in everything Bones had said and done. That was something Jim didn't know how to deal with, and not only because he and Bones had never been in such a situation before. Before Bones, Jim had never let anybody else as close as the other man. Jim had never trusted anyone as he did Bones, and the thought that this was broken between them now was probably the most painful realization.  
  
Jim wanted to explain everything. Damn it, he wanted nothing more than that, but Bones wasn't willing to listen. And he probably had every right to be too angry and upset right now to want to listen to what Jim had to say, but it hurt. It hurt far worse than Jim had imagined it ever could.  
  
Maybe this was his penance for letting this whole thing get out of control. He should have kept his distance, shouldn't have let his own feelings for Bones lead his actions. The way he had reacted after the first kiss, that was how he should have handled things. Not like the second time around. What the hell had he been thinking?  
  
He hadn't been thinking, that was part of the problem. He hadn't been thinking but instead had allowed his heart to take over where his brain should have told him to stop. Bones hadn't mentioned the kiss, not yet anyway, but Jim was sure that it was going to make things even worse. Had it been really worth it? Those few seconds of kissing Bones, the feeling of absolute contentment and coming home, had they really been worth risking his friendship with Bones over?  
  
No.  
  
His own selfish desires definitely weren't worth risking the best friendship he ever had for. And yet he had.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Jim looked up, trying to figure out what to do next. It was a mistake. He should have known that the first thing he'd see would be Bones' desk, angled against his. Bones' desk where he had been doing his paperwork each night, right here next to Jim.  
  
It had been right like that. It had _felt_ right, just being with Bones in companionable silence, knowing that the other one was there without the need to speak. It had felt right, but Jim should have never gotten used to that feeling. Bones didn't swing that way. Hell, Jim didn't swing that way, or at least he hadn't before. Never beyond curious fooling around, anyway.  
  
He was tumbling head over heels into something he had never allowed himself to feel before, only to ruin everything he ever cared about. And now Bones remembered. He had his memory back, but the price for it was that he was hurt and confused and felt betrayed.  
  
Jim had ruined it all, and he had no idea if he could ever get it back. Not the way it once was, probably. If at all.  
  
"Damn it!"  
  
There was a bunch of PADDs lying on his desk, and it felt good to swat them off the surface with one powerful strike. The sound of breaking plastic and displays was abnormally loud in the room, and it should have been satisfying to break something, to vent off some of the tight coil of tension inside of him, but if anything it only made the hollow feeling inside of him grow further. He could knock over the chair, or slam the contents of his drawers against the nearest wall, but nothing was going to make him feel any better.  
  
Nothing but Bones' forgiveness, or at least a chance at explaining himself, but Bones was disappointed and hurt right now and had other things to worry about than Jim's state of mind.  
  
Bones remembered.  
  
Belatedly, the full impact of the thought struck him, and Jim suddenly couldn't move fast enough. Rolling his chair forward, he quickly pushed the comm button.  
  
"Kirk to Sickbay."  
  
There was a second's pause, then M'Benga's deep voice sounded from the speaker.  
  
"M'Benga here, Captain."  
  
Jim drew a deep breath, swallowing against the suddenly tight lump in his throat.  
  
"You might want to try and find Bones, Doc. He remembered something."  
  
There was a moment of silence on the line, probably the time M'Benga needed to figure out that judged by the tone of Jim's voice it wasn't a good memory.  
  
"What did he remember?"  
  
"He remembered that we're not married."  
  
Another pause. "I see. I take it he didn't react too well to that, then."  
  
Jim didn't want to go into details. He didn't think M'Benga needed them to know, either.  
  
"Just look after him."  
  
"Of course Captain. M'Benga out."  
  
The room fell silent again, and with a sound that was half-sigh, half-sob, Jim leaned back in his chair and buried his hands in his short hair. Fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do now?  
  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo  
  
Jim didn't expect for things to just righten themselves. If there was anything his life had taught him, then that things were hardly ever easy.  
  
But in all honesty, he hadn't expected for it to be this bad.  
  
He tried to give Bones time to deal with everything, he really did. He knew that the other man had earned at least that much. But when first one day, then two and finally three days passed during which Jim didn't even _see_ Bones despite the fact that they lived and worked on the same damn ship, he thought he couldn't stand it anymore.  
  
Work provided some distraction. The Cruiser from the Andorian Imperial Guard reached them in order to take over the remaining freighter crew and their cargo, and to continue the repairs the Enterprise crew had started on the damaged ship. So there was enough to do to keep Jim occupied and distracted during the day. Bones was never far from his thoughts, but Jim managed to keep those thoughts at bay while there were duties to worry about.  
  
When he came home from what had turned into a busy double-shift on that first day, his quarters were empty.  
  
Well, not empty. But it was clear at first glance that at some point during the day, Bones had been in here to get his things. Not all of them. Moving everything back to Bones' quarters would have taken a lot more time and effort than this busy day had left anybody who was on shift. But Bones' desk was empty, and when Jim stepped over into the bedroom area of his quarters, he found that most of Bones' clothes were missing from the closet. His things were gone from the bathroom, and while the pictures of Bones and Jim still hung on the wall, all the holos of Joanna were gone.  
  
One thing Bones had left behind, lying right on the edge of what had been his desk, was his wedding ring.  
  
It looked just as if Bones had taken two duffle bags and had hastily packed up his most important belongings. The change in the room was big enough to drive the message home that Bones was gone, with no intention to come back anytime soon. But he had left just enough things to constantly remind Jim of his presence. The room felt empty, as if something vital was missing.  
  
And that thought wasn't even wrong. Something vital was missing from Jim's life. Bones was missing. And no matter how often Jim reminded himself that Bones had every right to be angry, and that he'd let Jim explain this whole mess once a little time had passed, it was never enough to fill the empty hole that had opened up inside of Jim the moment Bones had left.  
  
The problem? Jim didn't know how much more time passing he could bear like this. It was a sad truth, but ever since they had met on that shuttle, Jim had never _not_ talked to Bones for longer than a day or two. Especially not in anger. And not after Jim had gotten a glimpse of what could be if Bones was sharing Jim's feelings. He had kissed Jim after all – Bones had kissed him, and not the other way around. And while it had happened under the premise of a lie, it had felt _real_.   
  
Jim no longer knew what to think. All he knew was that his quarters no longer felt like the place where he could safely unwind after a day on duty. They felt empty and foreign, the bed was uncomfortable, and the dip in the mattress always forced him to roll to the side of the bed where the pillow smelled like Bones. Jim didn't sleep well – or much, for that matter – at night, and distracting himself while on duty only went so far. He couldn't help but think about Bones almost constantly, and if that wasn't the clearest sign that he was completely and utterly fucked, then Jim didn't know what was.  
  
If anybody had asked him before whether it was possible for a ship's Captain and CMO to go for days without meeting each other, he would have flat out denied it. But fact was, it was not only possible, it seemed almost too easy and effortless on Bones' part. Bones was back on regular duty, on shift at the same time as Jim was. And Jim didn't seek him out, he really didn't. He tried to keep his distance and give Bones time to deal with what had happened. But still, whenever Jim entered Sickbay during those days, Bones was nowhere to be seen. On one occasion the door to his office was closed and the glass front was polarized to shield whatever was going on in the office from view, and the other two times Jim had to get down to Medical for some reason the light above the door to the lab was flashing red, signaling that someone was performing tests in the sterile room at the back of the lab.  
  
Jim had the sneaking suspicion that as long as he didn't get himself hurt, Bones was going to be able to avoid him for as long as he wanted. And all he could do was wait.   
  
The crew noticed. Of course they noticed. There were far too many people on the Enterprise for something like this to go unnoticed. Word that Bones had started remembering got around fast, and it was unavoidable that everyone noticed that their Captain and their CMO weren't talking to each other anymore. Everyone was used to seeing them together at mealtimes, or on the Bridge, or simply hanging out during their time off. Everyone aboard noticed that something was wrong, but nobody dared to say anything about it. At least not to Jim's face.  
  
Jim was glad that nobody really dared to ask him what had happened. He wouldn't know what to say, and it was nobody's business but Bones' and his own. But it also meant that he couldn't easily figure out how Bones was doing. The whole mess that was their personal relationship aside, Jim didn't even know if Bones had regained any more memories after the one that had triggered their falling out.  
  
The fact that the medical team was a tight group didn't help either. Even if Jim wanted to ask any of them about Bones, he was sure that none of the medical staff was going to tell him anything if they thought Bones didn't want him to know. There was a very own kind of loyalty between the members of the medical staff, something Jim knew he could never interfere with without pulling rank in a situation to warrant it.  
  
Even M'Benga couldn't answer all of Jim's questions. As Bones' physician he was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. And only when Jim in his position as Captain made an inquiry about his CMO's condition could the other doctor tell him something about Bones' condition. Not much, but at least a little.  
  
Apparently, Bones had regained more of his memory since Jim had last seen him, though M'Benga described it not so much has a conscious process for every memory that resurfaced. Bones' brain was slowly filling in the blanks, but at times he only noticed that he remembered something new when he suddenly recognized a crewmember he hadn't known before, or when something aboard reminded him of something from his past he hadn't been able to recall while his memory had been gone.  
  
It should be reassuring to know that Bones was getting better, but without seeing it with his own eyes Jim felt strangely detached from the process. It felt like it wasn't real until Jim could see the results of it with his own eyes, and that wasn't going to happen until Bones decided to talk to him again. Jim could only imagine how confusing the entire situation was for the other man and he longed to be able to do something for him, to be there for him during that time, but he couldn't. Bones simply refused to talk to him, or even see him.  
  
By now Jim would even see shouting as an improvement to the current situation.  
  
During the first day, he told himself that Bones needed time. The second day was harder, but he understood that it was a pretty big revelation Bones had to deal with. By the third day, time was dragging on like treacle, minutes turning into hours and Jim caught himself scanning corridors, the mess hall, and every other place he went to for Bones. Whenever he caught sight of a blue uniform shirt he stopped short for the fragment of a second, unable not to look and see if he had accidentally run into the other man.  
  
Jim had no idea how Bones was doing it, if he was even consciously avoiding Jim or had simply retreated from everybody, but Bones was good at withdrawing. Incredibly good.  
  
By the fourth day, Jim had enough. He knew that there was the possibility that he was going to make it all worse, but he simply couldn't go on like that anymore. The desire to see Bones had turned into a near-physical need by now. Bones could refuse to talk to him, he could yell at Jim to leave him alone. Hell, he could even punch him for all that Jim cared. The only thing Jim wasn't going to let him do for any longer was to let him retreat into the illusory safety of his sterile lab and pretend that he wasn't even aboard. It felt too much like living in a world without Bones, and that was something Jim didn't want to consider. He'd take Bones angry, disappointed, hurt – in any mood really. Jim was going to find a way to deal with it, as long as Bones showed _any_ kind of emotion towards him. Anything was better than this.  
  
Bones might be able to withdraw, but he was unable to hide aboard a starship where the location of every crewmember was recorded at all times. Jim had deliberately waited until they were both off shift, hoping to catch the other man in his quarters, and he couldn't help but be surprised when the computer told him in a pleasant voice that Lieutenant Commander McCoy was currently located in the upper aft Observation Deck.  
  
It was the middle of beta shift, a time during which crewmembers mostly spent their time with more recreational activities than lounging in one of the observation decks. It was probably one of the best places aboard to find some solitude during this time of day. Jim would have preferred to have this conversation somewhere private, but he simply couldn't wait any longer on the off-chance that he was still courageous enough to go through with this once he finally caught Bones in his quarters.  
  
Jim's heart was beating fast in his chest as he walked down the corridor that led towards the aft observation deck. The area was thankfully empty, and Jim only hesitated for a second as he reached the closed door that was separating him from Bones. For just a second, he allowed his doubts to gain the upper hand. He was essentially being selfish again, seeking Bones out because _he_ wasn't able to stand the prolonged silence. Just like he had been selfish when he had let Bones kiss him, and kissed him back. His own selfish desires had made this whole situation so much worse already, what if this was just another point on that list?  
  
Jim had no idea, but he was too far gone to care. Things couldn't get much worse than they were now, and if Bones already decided that he wanted to cut Jim out of his life for what had happened, there were a few things Jim needed to say first. It was Bones' decision whether or not he could forgive Jim for all the lies and deception, and the hurt they had caused, but he needed to at least try and make the other man understand why he had started lying to him in the first place.  
  
With a deep breath that didn't manage to give him any more courage, Jim tore himself out of his morose mental ramblings and pressed the button to activate the door controls. The doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss that sounded ominous to Jim's ears, but he didn't have anything to gain by standing out here.  
  
The upper aft Observation Deck was the smallest of its kind aboard the ship. Bones still didn't like the idea of being in space, even after years of serving aboard a starship, and Jim had been a little surprised to hear that Bones was hiding out here. But when he entered the room he found the two large observation windows polarized, and the lights were dimmed down low. The room looked dark and empty at first glance, and as the door swished shut behind him Jim's eyes needed a few seconds to adjust to the lack of light.  
  
Bones was sitting on one of the benches against the wall overlooking the observation windows, but he wasn't looking at them. Polarized as they were, there was nothing to see of the space outside, anyway. Not that there was anything interesting to see with Enterprise back in a geo-stationary orbit around Nibilia now that the emergency rescue of the Andorian freighter had been concluded, but Jim knew that even the sight of boring and unmoving space wasn't something Bones subjected himself to if he had any other choice.  
  
Bones was holding a PADD in his hand, its screen adding a soft glow to the dim light of the room. His head was bent and there was a tension to his shoulders that seemed to have increased with the sound of the door opening. Jim took a few careful steps over towards where Bones was sitting, unable to keep his boots from echoing loudly in the stillness of the room.  
  
"Leave me alone," Bones growled without turning around, a sound that would have sent most crewmembers scattering immediately but which only increased Jim's desire to get closer to the other man. God, how much he had missed Bones, even if it was just his grumbling complaints.  
  
"I'll leave in a moment," Jim said, and Bones noticeably flinched as he heard the voice and realized who was there in the room with him. His shoulders drew up even more, and Jim could have sworn he got so tense he stopped breathing there for a while.  
  
"There's something I have to say, and I'll leave you alone again as soon as I'm done. But I think you need to hear this."  
  
"Jim, whatever it is, I don't want to…"  
  
"They didn't let me see you," Jim interrupted before Bones had the chance to end this conversation before it even started. "The Nibilians, after the shuttle crash. They didn't let anybody in to see you who wasn't family. And I…I wasn't thinking, I admit that. But I didn't know that you were going to wake up without your memory and really believe that we were married. And once you didn't remember, I couldn't tell you the truth. You were already so confused, and you really believed in this marriage, and I couldn't take that away from you, too."  
  
Jim had walked up so that he was standing a step or two away from Bones, still not close enough to crowd him, but close enough that he could see Bones' face in the semi-darkness of the room. Bones' eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, but for the life of him Jim couldn't tell what that expression meant.  
  
"And yes, I lied to you. I tried not to, I really didn't want to, but to keep up the pretense of being married, there were some things I couldn't help but lie about. It's…that doesn't make it right, I know that. I shouldn't have lied to you at all. But…I need you to know that not all of it was a lie. The facts, yes. Our wedding date, those rings, the shared quarters, all that was part of the lie." Jim's heart was beating frantically in his chest now, and his palms were feeling strangely damp. He had no idea why he was so incredibly nervous all of a sudden, but now that he had started speaking it seemed impossible to stop.  
  
"But nothing else was. Everything I told you about us, our relationship and about what…what I was feeling, that was no lie, Bones. I lied about the facts, but I didn't lie about any of the personal stuff. And I know that you don't want to hear this now, but I need you to understand that I never wanted to hurt you. I only wanted to help, and it spun out of control. And it's my fault, I get that, and I understand that you're hurt by it, but I…I need you, Bones. You're the one person in my life I can't do without, and that's why I need you to understand why I did what I did."  
  
Jim didn't know what else to say. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't used to talk about his feelings. Maybe because they hadn't ever mattered to anybody else. To nobody except Bones, and somehow up until this point Bones had always known the things that mattered. At least that's what Jim had always assumed, and if he was wrong about that, then he was screwed anyway.  
Bones' shoulders hitched slightly, and the room was bright enough to see how he was shaking his head rapidly as if to ward off Jim's words.  
  
"Jim…"  
  
It sounded lost and broken, and it tore at something deep inside of Jim that had been buried so deep and for so long that he didn't quite know what to do with that feeling.  
  
"I liked it." Jim interrupted before Bones could tell him to leave. He hadn't planned this, but now that he was here, suddenly there was nothing more important than letting Bones know this. "I _liked_ being married to you. And I know that it's unfair to dump all this on you, but it's the truth. I liked having you in my life like that. Completely. This…all of it – falling asleep with you and waking up next to you, just being around you like that. Not just as friends, but as something more. And that doesn't mean I don't want your friendship anymore. I do. I just need you to know that none of those feelings were a lie. I just didn't realize it was there before, but it was the truth."  
  
Jim still remembered how it had felt when Bones had kissed him, how he had never wanted for that moment to end, and how he hadn't been able to see before that he had everything he ever wanted right in front of him the entire time. He never wanted for Bones to think that any of that had been a lie, or him playing pretend.  
  
It had all been simmering in his head for a while now, a confused jumble of thoughts and feelings that he didn't quite know what to do with, and only now that he had said it out loud did it hit him that it was all the truth. Every single damn word of it. It was a terrifying thought, but at the same time it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders now that he had said it out loud.  
  
There was no taking it back now, not that Jim wanted to take any of it back.  
  
Bones still wasn't looking at Jim, his shoulders now hunched slightly as he stared straight ahead at where the stars would be visible if he hadn't polarized the window. He wasn't raging like Jim had maybe secretly expected him to, and the silence was even worse to take.  
  
But Jim had done all he could. Everything was out in the open now, there were no more lies, and Jim could only hope that somehow, by some miracle he sure as hell hadn't earned, Bones was going to forgive him.  
  
When Bones didn't react, Jim reached into his pocket and took out Bones' wedding ring. He had been carrying it with him ever since Bones had left it behind, though he couldn't have said why other than that he was unwilling to let go of what had been between them just yet. Taking a few steps towards Bones, he reached for the wedding ring on his own hand. It had slid smoothly onto his finger not even a week ago, but now the platinum band caught on his knuckle and Jim had to twist it a little to get it off. His hand felt strangely empty and light without the weight of the ring, and Jim quickly crossed the remaining distance towards where Bones was sitting before he could examine that feeling any closer.  
  
"I want you to keep these. I know that to you it was all just a lie, but it meant something to me. Those rings and what they stand for means something to me, and that's not a lie. So I want you to have them."  
  
Jim reached for Bones' free hand, the one that wasn't holding the PADD, and before the other man even had the chance to pull away from his touch, he put both rings into his open palm. Closing Bones' fingers over the warm metal, Jim could only hope that Bones would understand that this wasn't just about the rings. Jim wasn't only giving him those; he was also giving Bones his heart for safekeeping.  
  
And the decision what to do with it was Bones' alone.  
  
Jim drew a deep breath into the echoing silence of the room, then he turned around and left without another word.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**  
  
If Jim had any reason to believe that Bones had something even resembling a cruel streak inside of him, he'd suspect that the other man left him hanging deliberately. But he knew Bones, probably better than anybody else had ever allowed him to get to know them, and he knew that the silence between them wasn't due to any vindictive thoughts. It wasn't about Jim, it was about Bones, and what he was dealing with. And no matter how much Jim hated the silence, he knew that he had to just soldier up and bear it.  
  
He had said his piece, and whether or not that was enough for Bones to forgive him, or even give him another chance at explaining was not in his hands anymore. All he could do was wait.  
  
The only real distraction Jim had was work. There was no longer a reason for him to remain on light duty, but Spock had shouldered most of the negotiations with the Nibilians so far, and Jim wasn't surprised when they politely, but non-too subtly, asked for the Vulcan to continue them after Enterprise returned from the emergency rescue.  
  
It didn't really bother Jim. He could definitely imagine a more thrilling experience than being stuck in negotiations with the Nibilians for hours on end each day. But being stuck here on the ship where he could possibly run into Bones each time he left the Bridge or his quarters wasn't helping, either. Enterprise was a huge ship, but during those days it seemed incredibly small and crowded to Jim. Almost oppressive, really.  
  
The simple truth was that it was impossible to distract himself. Not aboard Enterprise, where Bones was weaved intrinsically into every aspect of Jim's life. More than once, Jim found himself wishing he had access to time travel technology. Some leftover red matter maybe, just enough to get him back in time in order to shake some sense into his self from two weeks ago. _Don't lie to Bones. Don't ever pretend that you're married to him_.  
  
It was a futile mental exercise, of course, wishing that he could find a way to change the past. But considering how royally screwed up the present was, he thought he was entitled a few idle and fruitless thoughts. It proved that he was capable of learning, didn't it?  
  
Of course Spock saw things differently, and how the hell the Vulcan even found time to form an opinion on Jim's behavior with all the negotiating he had to do, Jim had no idea. But it was Spock, so Jim really shouldn't be surprised that the Vulcan found enough time somewhere to analyze Jim's performance. Not that Jim had needed anybody pointing out to him that he wasn't as focused as he was supposed to be. Right now, with Enterprise still in stationary orbit, he could afford it, but he knew that he needed to get a grip on himself soon. If Spock noticed, it wasn't going to be long before other members of the crew did, too, and he couldn't let that happen. So Jim Kirk did what he had learned to do years ago – he grit his teeth and pretended everything was all right.  
  
He had perfected the art of that a long time ago, and it seemed it was enough to fool his crew. Hell, it seemed even enough to fool Spock, and if that didn't mean Jim was the damned best at pretending, then he didn't know what did. Jim very nearly fooled _himself_ into thinking that everything was all right, and that he only had to wait a little while and things were going to be all right again. Just as if nothing had ever happened.  
  
It was an illusory bubble, Jim knew that, but he did his best to get comfortable in it. He had to, because if he himself believed it, chances were good that nobody was going to notice how raw and upset he was feeling on the inside. So Jim forced himself to believe.  
  
It was the door chime that eventually burst the bubble, and it hit Jim completely out of the blue and unprepared.  
  
He was in his quarters, getting started on the quarterly reports for Starfleet even though they weren't due for another six weeks, just because it was something to do. The sudden sound of his door chime took him completely by surprise. He didn't expect anybody, and if he was needed on the bridge someone would have commed him. Putting the PADD down on the desk, he turned his chair towards the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The door swished open, and just like that Jim's brain froze up. The grey matter that had counselors and teachers promise Jim an amazing career if he only managed to utilize its natural abilities simply decided to stop working right then and there.  
  
It was Bones who was standing on the threshold, outlined by the corridor lights behind him. From one moment to the next, Jim's heart started beating at twice its normal pace, and he was out of his chair without even a conscious thought.  
  
"Bones."  
  
His mouth was inexplicably dry, and the word felt awkward on his tongue.  
Bones ran a hand through his hair, his eyes not quite meeting Jim's. The surprise upon seeing Bones so unexpectedly made way for confusion, and then for the ugly feeling that Bones' reason for coming here was not a good one.  
  
"Jim."  
  
Jim desperately tried to gauge the other man's mood by the way he said his name, but the one syllable simply wasn't enough to say whatever was going on in Bones' head. Still, Jim didn't expect for all his problems to just resolve themselves with that one visit. He knew better by now, and if he only kept his expectations as low as possible, he wasn't going to end up disappointed when this visit was going to drive them even further apart. It would hurt, of course, but at least it wouldn't come as a surprise. Jim was always best when he could make the first move, anyway.  
  
"I can leave, if you want to get the rest of your things."  
  
Bones seemed confused for a second, as if he hadn't even contemplated the sheer number of things he still had strewn around Jim's quarters. After a second, he gave a small shake of his head.  
  
"Can I come in?"  
  
Jim wanted to slap himself. Bones was still standing on the threshold of his quarters, their conversation audible to whoever might be passing by in the corridor. And after days of silence this was a visit he didn't particularly want to have an audience for.  
  
"Sure," he blabbered out, too fast and too forceful to cover up any of the confusion and excitement he felt at seeing Bones again. "Come in."  
  
Bones did, though he only took a few steps into the room, barely enough for the door to swish shut behind him. Jim gestured over towards the sofa, but Bones made no move to sit down. Jim had no other choice but to remain standing as well, even though his knees started to feel suspiciously wobbly.  
  
"So…"  
  
Bones had been staring at the floor since his entry, as if something about the grey tiles had changed dramatically since he had last been inside Jim's quarters. But when Jim spoke – and to be honest he had only said something to break the silence that was starting to build between them – he raised his head. He still wasn't meeting Jim's eyes directly, but at least he was looking in his direction. Jim was willing to count that as a step forward.  
  
"I had a long talk with Geoffrey yesterday," Bones said in an even voice, and for a second Jim didn't quite know what to make of that statement. Of course Bones and M'Benga talked. They had to, otherwise neither of them could get their job done. And of course they would have also talked about Bones' amnesia, seeing as M'Benga was Bones' attending physician, so why ever a conversation with the other man would make Bones come seek out Jim was beyond him for a moment. Only for a moment, though, then more than one possible explanation popped up in Jim's head.  
  
"If he was trying to take the blame for what happened…"  
  
Bones started to shake his head even before Jim had the chance to finish his sentence.  
  
"That's not what this is about." His voice was gruff, but he ran his hand through his hair with a sight that clearly showed his confusion and frustration, even if he didn't allow it to seep into his voice. "We talked about that, but damn it Jim, that's absolutely not what this is about."  
  
Jim swallowed hard, trying to put all the thoughts whirling through his mind into their proper place.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Bones shook his head so vehemently that Jim was worried he was going to hurt himself if he kept the movement up for much longer.  
  
"No, it's not okay, Jim. It's anything but okay, and you don't seem to get why the hell it isn't!"  
  
And though it hurt him to admit to it, Jim knew that Bones was right. He had no idea why the other man was still so angry at him if it wasn't about the lies, and that Bones blamed him for what had happened while he couldn't remember. But Bones spared him the embarrassment of having to ask what all this was about, because he just continued talking as if he was trying to ward off any attempt at interruption Jim might make.  
  
"I'm not an idiot, Jim. I remember a lot more than I did just a few days ago, and I can damn well read the reports of what happened now that I have my old clearances back. I know what happened on Nibilia, and I also know what happened in that meeting when you all decided to keep lying to me. And I know that you were against it at first."  
  
Jim frantically wracked his brain, trying to remember details about that meeting that had happened what seemed like a lifetime ago already. He had been against the pretence at first, that was true, because he had known the fallout was going to get ugly. But that didn't mean he was any less guilty for going through with it in the end. He had played the biggest part in this whole charade, after all, and whether or not he had been against it in the beginning didn't matter – in the end he had agreed, and gone through with it.  
  
"I knew you'd be pissed once you found out. But that hardly matters because I went along with the lie, didn't I? If I had listened to my gut, all this wouldn't have happened."  
  
"But that's not the point!" Bones exclaimed in a voice that was closer to a yell than his normal speaking voice. "So yeah, you screwed up because you didn't take a moment to think about the possible implications when you proclaimed that we were married right in front of the highest representative of an alien species. And I was damn pissed when I realized that, but that's not what still makes me so angry that I can barely hold myself back from punching you."  
  
"Then what does?" Jim started pacing up and down in front of his desk. "And probably I should know what this is about, but I'm sorry, I just don't. I lied to you, and you have every right to be pissed at me for that, but if that isn't it, then I just don't know what is. I'm sorry, I just don't."  
  
Bones drew a deep breath, his eyes blazing at Jim in a way he had never seen before. Not like this, and not directed at him. But with the next deep breath all that seemed to fall away and all that was left was a sad resignation.  
  
"When my mind was nothing but a blank slate, I…Jim, I know that you can't understand what that was like. I couldn't either, not before I experienced it myself, even though I had treated amnesiac patients before and thought I could relate to what the patients were going through. But I couldn't. Not until all that was left of my memory was a big fat pile of nothing. I was desperately looking for something to hold on to, something that would make sense. And the one thing I thought I knew for sure was that I was married to you."  
  
Jim opened his mouth to say something, but Bones quickly shook his head.  
  
"No, Jim. Geoffrey was right, at least at first. Telling me that we weren't married right after I came back aboard, I don't know if I would have handled that very well. I mean, you were just a stranger, like everybody else, but the thought that you were my husband, it…" Bones ran a hand through his hair, nervously pacing a few steps up and down. "It sounds horribly stupid, but at first that knowledge helped. You were just a stranger, but I thought since we were married you'd be one person who genuinely cared about what was best for me. I thought that I could trust you. I needed to trust everything other people told me because I didn't have any damn memories of my own, and I thought the one person I could trust completely was my husband, right?"  
  
He gave a small, humorless laugh.  
  
"The thing is, it might have made me feel more secure in all this madness, but nobody – not you, not M'Benga, not anybody else, considered that to me all that was _real_. As far as I was concerned that was my life. _That_ was what I was trying to remember. I thought you were the man I had fallen in love with, the man I had decided to spend the rest of my life with. That was the reality to me, even if I didn't remember any of it. And you were great to me."  
  
Jim didn't know what to say, if Bones even wanted him to say something or if he simply needed to get all this off his chest. He wouldn't have known what to say, anyway. _Great_ definitely wasn't how he'd describe his actions of the past week.  
  
"You didn't push me," Bones continued. "I kept thinking that the whole situation must suck nearly as bad for you as it did for me, because your life had been turned upside down just as well. And you handled it all so well, without freaking out about the fact that your husband suddenly wasn't the man you remembered anymore. But you took it all in stride. You were there for me, you gave me space when I needed it, and I don't even remember how often I thought that I was damn lucky to have you. I was confused enough by everything, and I thought it was amazing that I had a husband who stood by my side the way you did through all of that. You seemed to genuinely care that I got better, nothing else."  
  
"But I did!" Jim protested without even a conscious thought. Bones just shook his head wearily.  
  
"The worst thing, the one thing I'm so absolutely sad and angry about is that towards the end I thought I understood. Before I remembered the truth, I thought I could understand why it was you. Why I had decided that you were the one."  
  
Jim's heart was hammering away in his chest as he heard those words. It didn't make sense to him, not entirely, maybe not yet, but not even Jim was emotionally stunted enough to not recognize an important moment when he saw one.  
  
"Bones…"  
  
"That's what I can't stop thinking about, Jim. That's the reason why I have a hard time being around you these days. Not the fact that you lied to me. That's what I was pissed about at first, but I think I get it now. What I can't wrap my head around is that you allowed it to get to that point. And I get that you and Geoffrey were also flying by the seat of your pants this whole time, and that you were trying to do what was best for me, but you didn't draw the line. Either you should have told me the truth at one point, or you should have kept me at a distance. But you didn't do that, Jim. You let me fall for this. Worse, you let me fall for you. So far that I thought I understood why I had fallen in love with you at some point. Why I had decided to marry you. And then I have to find out on my own that it was nothing but yet another lie, Jim. That's what hurts so fucking much that I can't believe you did that to me."  
  
Jim didn't know what to say. His brain had a hard time processing what he had just heard, and even though there was a small part of him that had perked up at what Bones had said about falling for him, he brushed that thought aside for now. It was important, more than important, but right now was not the time to contemplate that because this time it was obvious that Bones expected him to say something.  
  
And because Jim was a complete and utter idiot whose brain wasn't connected to his mouth properly, he said the exactly wrong thing.  
  
"What else should I have done?"  
  
As soon as the words had left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself, but there was no taking them back. Not even as Bones visibly flinched and took a small step away from him. Had he seemed somewhat helpless and confused before, now the anger was creeping back into his eyes.  
  
"You should have told me the truth, Jim! You should have told me that you only made up the story of us being married. You shouldn't have allowed me to get more and more invested in this marriage with each passing day. And you damn well shouldn't have let me kiss you, much less kissed me back!"  
  
To say that Jim regretted the kiss would be a lie. He regretted the circumstances, but that kiss had been too good, had felt too right to ever regret it. But fortunately this time his brain was up to the job of keeping him from saying that out loud.  
  
"I'm sorry, Bones." Bones seemed ready to launch into another tirade at that, but this time it was Jim who interrupted him. "I know that it's not making anything undone, but it's true. I never meant for you to get hurt, but I…I can't control my feelings, either. I know that I screwed up, Bones. But I didn't know what else to do."  
  
Bones looked at Jim for a long moment, and for the first time since the other man had shown up on his doorstep, Jim noticed how exhausted he looked. There were shadows under his eyes that weren't normally there, and his lower lip was reddened slightly, just as if he had worried it with his teeth unnaturally much.  
  
"I can't…I can't do this, Jim. Not right now. Not yet. It's too much. It sounds so fucking easy, right? We play pretend marriage for a while, you enjoy it, I start feeling something for you that I never felt before, why don't we just go from there? I don't know about you, but I can't do that. I don't even know what's _real_ anymore. You don't just fall in love with your best friend, just because you're led to think that he's more than that. I don't. And whenever I look at you now, I ask myself if what I'm feeling is even real."  
  
Jim frowned at that, stunned speechless by Bones' admission of his feelings. Ever since that kiss, it had been something he had secretly hoped to hear, but not under these circumstances. Not with so much doubt laced into Bones' voice.  
  
"How can I still know what's real and what's not, Jim? There's still details that I don't remember, but most of it has come back by now, but how can I be _sure_? I don't remember feeling like this about you before, so how can I be sure that I didn't start to feel this way because I thought I had to?"  
  
Jim finally gave in and sank back down into his desk chair. His mind was too busy trying to make sense of everything he had heard, there was no capacity left for him to worry about remaining steady on his feet. Steadying his elbows on his thighs, he leaned his face into his hands.  
  
"I don't know, Bones. I just don't know what to do anymore."  
  
Bones ran a hand over his face.  
  
"Geoffrey asked me what I would have done. What I would have done differently. And I don't know, Jim. I don't know if I would have done the same thing that you did, or something entirely different. But you know what? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because I wasn't the one who ended up in that situation. And I don't care if that's fair or not, but it's true. I didn't have to make the choices you did, but I have to live with the consequences now. And right now, I don't really know how to do that, Jim."  
  
For a moment, silence settled between them, but it wasn't the comfortable kind of silence they had often shared before. This was the silence that happened between two people who should have a lot to talk about but were unable to find the words to communicate. It was Bones who eventually broke it.  
  
"I thought about requesting a transfer."  
  
And just like that, the floor opened up under Jim, and his stomach took a dive south.  
  
"No," he rasped out, ready and willing to offer Bones anything he wanted just so that he wouldn't leave. He couldn't do that. He couldn't leave Enterprise, couldn't leave Jim behind. Not now, when things were in limbo between them, neither really here nor there. Bones shook his head before Jim could say anything else.  
  
"I _thought_ about it, for all the good that it did me. I mean, it worked before, after Jocelyn. I just started all over again. For a little while, I thought it might just be the time to do that again."  
  
Jim swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, trying to figure out whether Bones was trying to tell him that he was leaving or not. He was no longer sure.  
  
"Bones, what…"  
  
"I can't run away from this, Jim. I got nowhere else to go, after all. Jocelyn got Earth, and there has never been a time when space wasn't yours. So where else should I go?"  
  
"You don't have to go."  
  
Finally, Bones looked into Jim's eyes.  
  
"I know. And I don't want to run again. I actually like this crew, moronic and accident-prone as they might be. I just don't really know what to do about this thing between us."  
  
And suddenly, Jim knew what the only possible answer he could give was.  
  
"Whatever you think you can live with. I mean, if we can somehow get back what we had, to being friends like we were, then that's more than I can hope for. And if you think you can't do that, I'd still be an idiot to give up the best doctor in the entire fleet. Whatever it is, if you say you can deal with it, then I can, too."  
  
Bones shook his head. "We're still friends, Jim. We've always been friends. It's just that I don't really know what else we are or aren't right now."  
  
Again, Bones' hand went up to his face, but instead of running over the stubble on his cheek it went into his hair, mussing up the short strands.  
  
"The reason why I came here is something else Geoffrey told me earlier. He thinks my head's unscrambled enough to put me back on fully active duty as CMO. But he also pointed out that it doesn't work if a ship's Captain and his CMO aren't on speaking terms. And he's right. We can't evade each other once I'm back on full duty. And I know that I've been doing most of the evading these past days, but it's gotta stop now."  
  
Jim nodded. "Okay. If you think you can do it."  
  
Bones gave one court nod. "Yeah. I mean, we're adults. And we're friends, Jim. That…I don't think any of that changed. I just need time to get my head all sorted out. I need some space. And I don't mean the _I don't want to see you_ -kind of space. More like the _give me space_ -kind of space."  
  
It sounded so much like something Bones would have said before all this mess had started that Jim had to stifle a smile even though he didn't particularly feel like smiling. It wasn't as if this conversation had resolved anything. It had held a promise of hope, but if there was one thing Jim had learned in his life so far then it was not to put too much faith in hope because it easily let you down. Yet it was one step farther than they had been before this evening, so maybe he should just take it as it was and not question it too much.  
  
"I know it's not easy, Jim. But it's for the best."  
  
Jim suddenly realized that he had yet to react to Bones' last statement, and he quickly shook himself out of his reverie and nodded.  
  
"Sure. Absolutely. I mean, if you need space, I'm gonna give you space. We…we'll work something out, Bones."  
  
Bones nodded once, forcing the corners of his mouth up in a weak imitation of a smile that was just as unconvincing as Jim's fake bravado was.  
  
"Good. I'll be back on duty as CMO tomorrow. I talked about it with Geoffrey, and," he shrugged uncomfortably, as if he didn't really know what to say. "I guess you'll get my report tomorrow."  
  
"Good." Jim nodded again, feeling like an idiot though he couldn't tell why.  
  
Bones turned to leave, and when he had his back to Jim and his hand already raised to palm the door open, suddenly another question popped up in Jim's mind which he thought he might never get answered if he didn't ask it now.  
  
"Bones!"  
  
Bones turned around and raised an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of surprise and the slight worry that Jim couldn't leave the conversation in the somewhat balanced state it had ended in.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What would you have done? If the situation had been reversed, I mean."  
  
Jim knew he was walking a tight rope with that question. Bones wasn't the kind of person to indulge in what ifs, and it was something that could easily annoy him if it caught him off guard. But instead of blowing up at Jim like he had done earlier, Bones thought for a long moment, then he shrugged.  
  
"You mean if you had been in that shuttle crash, and I had been the one in that hospital trying to get information on your condition?"  
  
Jim nodded, which earned him another shrug.  
  
"I don't know, Jim. If I had known you were hurt, I'd have probably caused an interstellar diplomatic incident trying to get to you, all of the Nibilians' social norms be damned. I don't know if that would have been better, though. I guess it would just be different consequences we'd be dealing with right now."  
  
And Jim understood what Bones meant by _different_. Different because then they'd be dealing with angry aliens and pissed off Starfleet Admirals, but at least they'd still be okay with each other. It was a whole different level of trouble they'd be in, and because he was Captain and had the responsibility for the entire crew and all their missions, Jim couldn't even allow himself to think that he'd prefer that outcome.  
  
Bones palmed the door control and left the room as soon as the door opened. When it slid shut behind him with a hiss, Jim sank back down in his chair, suddenly feeling deflated and…he didn't even know what to call it. Not any better than he had before this visit, that much he was sure of.  
  
As glad as he was that Bones wasn't leaving – and for one moment Jim had thought the other man was seriously contemplating that possibility, and that had caused a whole flood of feelings Jim didn't ever want to experience again – Jim didn't know what to think of this idea of giving him space. Of course he would, if that was what Bones wanted. He knew better by now than to put his own wishes above the other man's.  
  
But he had the distinct feeling that _giving each other space_ was a step backwards rather than towards each other, and he had absolutely no idea what to do about that. It was a step into some direction. Jim just wasn't entirely sure it was the right one, if there was still such a thing.


	12. Chapter 12

** Chapter 12 **   
  
It was weird, how easy it was to fall back into normal habits, and how well-known yet at the same time completely different everything turned out to be. It felt a little as if Jim was wearing the wrong glasses – everything seemed perfectly normal upon first glance, but all the things he thought he knew so well seemed slightly wrong and out of focus upon closer inspection.   
  
That Bones wanted space apparently meant that he needed physical space above all. Of course there was no way for a Captain and his CMO aboard a starship to avoid each other completely, but what this enforced separation cut down on most was the time they spent alone together. Aside from the weekly meeting that Captain and CMO were obliged to have, there was not a single instance during the first two weeks after that _give-me-space_ -conversation when they were alone together.   
  
Up until all this had happened, Jim had never consciously noticed how much time he and Bones spent together, just the two of them. It was something that rooted way back to their first semester at the Academy, and it was so deeply ingrained in Jim's daily routines that he only noticed the sheer amount of his time that was taken up by Bones now that it was taken from him.   
  
Of course their duties had demanded more time ever since they had boarded Enterprise, but still. They had _made_ time for one another, and it hadn't even been a conscious effort, at least not on Jim's part. He simply had found ways to incorporate alone time with Bones into his daily routines, no matter if it was just five minutes here or ten minutes there.   
  
They always had breakfast together if their shifts allowed it. And everyday Bones grumbled about how Jim needed to eat more fruit and no, grapefruit didn't count if he buried it under a mount of sugar. And once a week, mostly the evening after their weekly obligatory meeting, they hung out and spent the evening either in Bones' quarters or his own, watching old holo-vids or simply talking half the night away. It was never something obligatory, no fixed dates or appointments. It were small rituals they simply had developed and followed without question. And that didn't even include all the times that Jim went to Sickbay while Bones was on duty, or the times Bones came the bridge without any apparent reason.   
  
And those were the things that Jim missed more than he could have imagined. It wasn't even that Bones was giving him the cold shoulder. It just…Jim himself didn't know how to describe it. Maybe it was because they had both agreed to this whole giving-space idea, but they were no longer seeking each other out. There were always others around, so it was easier to put it down to that and not to being a deliberate act when Bones was suddenly having breakfast with Chapel, or when Jim found that he was glad when Scotty wanted to talk with him about some engine upgrades and gave him a valid excuse to not even contemplate sliding into the empty seat next to Bones.   
  
Still, Jim missed it. He missed having Bones in his life the way he had always been, and he couldn't help the sinking feeling that the longer they were keeping this whole idea of giving it space up, the farther they were drifting apart.   
  
He knew that for Bones, it was a matter of trust. Not so much trust in Jim, though that was a part of it. The fact that Jim had lied to Bones was a breach of trust that was still standing between them, no matter how much Bones claimed that it wasn't the main reason for his anger. It was still there. But even more than that, for Bones it was a matter of trust in himself. For as long as he didn't trust that his feelings were real, and that he wanted to spend time with Jim out of his own volition and not because he had spent nearly an entire week convincing himself that he was _supposed_ to feel this way, Bones was going to keep his distance.   
  
What was weird was that Jim could understand that reasoning, and at the same time didn't want to accept it for what it was. It hurt, in a place somewhere deep in his chest where Jim had never felt that kind of hurt before. Maybe that was the reason why he didn't really know how to deal with that feeling.   
  
The cut was abrupt, but what allowed Jim to keep his sanity during that time was that it wasn't complete or final. The change was slow, but it was there. Things didn't come to a standstill entirely, and admittedly Jim was fascinated by how much he learned to appreciate all the small things as they came back.   
  
The first time they ended up eating a meal together at the same table, admittedly with Sulu and Chapel between them and the main reason why they had ended up at this arrangement in the first place. Yet all Jim could think about during that breakfast was that it was closer than he had been to Bones outside of their weekly meetings in a long time.   
  
It was a strange dance of give and take in which Jim was constantly trying to gauge how close he could go without overstepping the whole concept of _giving space_. He didn't want to pressure Bones and make him withdraw again, yet at the same time he was completely incapable of _not_ being around the other man in some way.   
  
It worked. Somehow, subtly, things shifted back into a more normal pattern between them. There had never been any hostility in their distance, just…distance. And it dissolved only slowly, but the main thing was that it did dissolve. It started with conversations over meals whenever they ended up in the mess hall at the same time. First with the buffer of other people between them and as the focal point of the conversation. But they talked with each other, too, and slowly but surely mealtimes turned into something that Jim found himself looking forward to again.   
  
In fact, it took Jim completely by surprise when one morning he found himself on the receiving end of a minor tirade about pork and why it was not a good idea to deep-fry stripes of it, and an even worse idea to then eat the end result. Not the tirade as such came as a surprise, but the fact that when Jim looked up, he realized for the first time that he and Bones were sitting alone at one of the small tables near the back of the room. Nobody else was sitting there with them, in fact it would have been a tight squeeze trying to fit somebody else at their table at all.   
  
It was a little disconcerting that Jim hadn't even noticed the fact that they were alone before, when all he had been bemoaning in the past weeks was that he had too little time with his friend. And it was such a pleasant surprise that Jim, after the first moment of stunned paralysis wore off, pushed away his plate with bacon and got up to get himself a bowl of cereal. And an apple. Just to have the small satisfaction of seeing Bones' eyes widen slightly and his fingers twitch into the direction of his ever-present tricorder at the sight of comparatively healthy food on Jim's plate.   
  
It was like putting on a comfortable old pair of shoes, although Jim would never tell Bones about that particular comparison. But it was a good feeling to come into the mess hall to find Bones already sitting there, the chair opposite of him empty, or to see Bones slide into the seat next to Jim on the rare occasions when Jim was the first to be up and about. It was the resurrection of one of their traditions, silently and without much ado, and Jim was unspeakably glad to have it back.   
  
Of course life on the ship didn't stop while Jim watched whether or not his friendship with Bones was going to piece itself back together. Negotiations with the Nibilians stretched on for another week after the _giving-space_ conversation until all questions were cleared up and the Nibilian High Senate agreed to further communication with Starfleet Admiralty about the bureaucratic details. After weeks in stationary orbit, it felt like freedom to finally go back to warp and take Enterprise back into deep space, towards the next mission Starfleet Command deigned to assign them.   
  
And leaving orbit also meant that Jim's life as Captain grew increasingly more busy, and he no longer had a lot of time to spare in between his regular duties. Jim found himself looking forward to those few minutes over breakfast every morning. They didn't talk about any profound revelations, but the main thing was that they talked. About ordinary, everyday things.   
  
Three weeks after they broke orbit of Nibilia II, during alpha shift, Bones came to the Bridge for the first time since this whole mess had started. There was no reason for him to come to the Bridge other than that they were passing a binary pulsar that was absolutely breathtaking to watch, and – far more importantly to Jim – because Bones coming to the Bridge for no apparent reason at all was _normal_. It was what Bones did, just dropping by for a few moments, standing to Jim's right for a little while before he went back to Medical.   
  
Only, he hadn't done so in a long while, and as he stepped out of the turbolift and onto the Bridge that day, all eyes were on him. If Bones noticed, he didn't let it on. He merely stepped up to his customary position somewhere to the right of Jim's chair and watched the pulsar for a few long minutes before he turned around and left again just as wordlessly as he had come.   
  
Nobody said anything about the incident, not to Jim at least and he guessed nobody would dare mention it to Bones, either, but Jim had a hard time keeping the smile off his face for a long while afterwards.   
  
Jim had never experienced a friendship like the one with Bones before. That wasn't to say that he never had a friend before the other man, just never a friendship like this one. Everything before had been more distant, and far more superficial. That fact might be one reason why Jim was so surprised that this careful equilibrium between him and Bones didn't feel strained. After a little while, when they were making the first careful steps back towards normalcy, Jim slowly realized that just because they didn't quite know what to do with and about each other right now, the foundation of their friendship was still there. The trust might have gotten a little scratched, but not on the level that truly mattered. It was weird yet at the same time a comfortable feeling to know that not all was lost, even if some things were going to take some time to earn them back.   
  
That realization was one Jim had when what would have been his father's 60th birthday rolled around, and some higher ups in Starfleet thought it would be a brilliant idea to ask Jim for a few statements and commentaries they wanted to work into a holo-vid to commemorate the hero-figure George Kirk which Starfleet Admiralty still clung to almost desperately. Not even Pike had been able to get Jim out of the assigned task, no matter that the other man knew how much Jim hated that particular kind of spotlight, and for a couple of days Jim had seriously considered whether he should comply with Starfleet's wishes or if he should just tell them to go put their holo where the sun don't shine and see if they were going to relieve him of command while Enterprise was somewhere in deep space.   
  
It was Bones who figured out that something was going on with Jim during that time, and Bones who cornered him, sat him down and made him talk about what was going on. And it was Bones who sat there while Jim ranted on about the fuckers at Starfleet who didn't know when to leave someone be, about duties as a Captain and playing marionette for someone else's PR stunts. And even though Bones couldn't take this obligation away from Jim, but after spending his entire evening just letting go all his pent-up frustration about being used like this, Jim felt better.   
  
Also, it was the first time Bones stuck around after their weekly meeting as Captain and CMO.   
  
And so they settled into a slow rhythm back to normalcy. Things were looking better and better with each passing day – they shared meals during which Bones' grumbled about Jim's food choices, they talked, there was the banter and the grumbling the crew was used to hearing from them. Jim had to admit that their relationship seemed just like it always had for anyone who might be looking at them more closely. Only Jim still had the feeling that despite all their usual routines, something still wasn't right between them. Not entirely. Not the way it _should_ be.   
  
And maybe that was because for all the talking they did, they never once mentioned what had happened when Bones had lost his memory.   
  
Not once, even though it was definitely still on Jim's mind, and he doubted that Bones had forgotten about it, either. Jim for one had definitely forgotten about it, even though he would never tell anybody that sometimes he'd still wake up with his face pressed into what had been Bones' pillow, as if he could still smell the other man even though the sheets had been changed a number of times since then. And if he woke up occasionally with the memory of what it had felt like to feel Bones' lips on his, he most certainly wasn't going to tell anybody about that, either.   
  
They had agreed to do the whole giving space thing, after all, and no matter how much Jim had resented that idea at first, he had to admit that in a way it had worked out. Bones was still just as integral a part of Jim's life as he had been before. He wasn't going to get greedy when he should be grateful that he had his friend back.   
  
A friend who was currently seated on the sofa beside Jim, staring at the vid-screen from unseeing eyes as the movie played before them, his glass of beer (replicated and with the Starfleet guarantee that it didn't contain any trace of alcohol) going stale in front of him. Bones had been like this all evening long – distracted, as if he had other things going on in his head than their weekly meeting and the subsequent movie night at Jim's.   
  
Jim admitted that the movie wasn't the best thing he had ever seen, but when even the spectacular shuttle crash towards the end failed in provoking any kind of reaction from the other man, Jim knew that something was up.   
  
"Computer, pause playback."   
  
The movie stopped on an image of the hero sprinting through an alley in the 22nd century New York, the abrupt ending of the sounds of a battle and chase leaving the room in silence, yet still it took Bones a second or two too long to react to the interruption. With a frown on his face, he turned around."   
  
"Jim?"   
  
Jim drew a breath, pushing away the nagging thought that if Bones had wanted to talk to him, he'd have started talking already, and that he might be overstepping the boundaries of giving each other space, which as far as he knew was still in full force as a rule.   
  
"What's going on?"

  
Bones frowned, but it was unconvincing.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You've been distracted all evening. And I know the requisition forms we had to go through earlier weren't exactly entertaining, but I bet you don't even know what the movie is about even though we've been watching for over an hour now."  
  
Bones tiredly ran a hand over his face. "Sorry, Jim."  
  
"You wanna talk about it?"  
  
And that was the clearest sign that something between them was still out of synch in a pivotal way. Normally, Jim wouldn't have had to ask. Normally, Bones would have covered up what was worrying him in a rant about something else, yet in a way that Jim would be bound to notice what the whole thing was really about. This whole situation was forcing them into a different dynamic, one Jim wasn't exactly sure he knew how to navigate without overstepping his boundaries.  
  
Bones only shrugged.  
  
"There's nothing much to talk about. It's nothing, really."  
  
"This _'nothing'_ kept you occupied well enough so that it kept you from even noticing the fiery shuttle crash that happened a minute ago. I picked the movie because I was looking forward to the tirade that was going to follow that particular scene." Jim pointed at the screen. "And if not even something like that can tear you out of your thoughts, then I'd say it bothers you pretty damn much."  
  
Another shrug, and Bones started picking at the knee of his pants as if he was worrying a loose thread.  
  
"I talked to Jo this afternoon."  
  
"Is everything all right?" Jim asked, unable to keep the note of concern out of his voice.  
  
Bones nodded quickly. "Sure. Yeah, Jo is fine. She likes her new school, and she's doing good."  
  
"So…if she's doing good, then why has that call to her worked you up like that?"  
  
Bones drew a deep breath. "I told, you, it's nothing. I just…I couldn't remember something."  
  
Something lurched inside of Jim's gut even though he knew that Bones was all right, wouldn't be sitting here beside him if he suspected anything more sinister to be going on than a lapse of memory for some reason.  
  
"What was it?"  
  
"Jo was telling me about a trip she and Jocelyn took, to a lake about two hours south of Atlanta. She kept telling me that I had taken her there once, and I didn't believe her because I couldn't remember ever taking her there. I didn't even remember that I've ever even _been_ there. She kept insisting, and only when she mentioned trying to surf on her floatable mattress and going under did I remember that she was right."  
  
He looked up at Jim, finally, and there was a notion of raw pain in his eyes as he leveled them on Jim.  
  
"I didn't remember anything about it, Jim. And I can't help but think…I thought it was all back. But I can't help but think that I won't notice if there's something I don't remember. What if there's more memories that didn't come back? What if there's things that I forgot during the amnesia and never got back? I'll never know, because it's not as if I'll notice that something is gone permanently. And nobody else can tell me."  
  
It was a question Jim had honestly never considered before, and one he didn't have an immediate answer to. So far, Jim's concern had always been about the memories that were coming back, not about ones that might stay lost forever. Was that even possible? But Bones was the doctor, surely he wouldn't worry about something like that if it was completely impossible.  
  
"Is that likely?"  
  
Bones shrugged with a sigh, and leaned forward to take a long sip of his stale beer.  
  
"Hell if I know, Jim. It's a bit hard to do case studies on memories amnesiac patients forgot forever."  
  
Jim leaned back and let that thought settle for a long moment. He knew that he should say something, something profound enough to assuage Bones' worries, but he wasn't an expert on that kind of thing. He longed to assure, but he also knew that picking the wrong words right now was going to do more harm than good.  
  
"I don't know what to say, Bones." He eventually settled for honesty. Bones always appreciated honesty, and Jim still had quite a lot to make up on as far as that was concerned. "I'm not an expert on that kind of stuff, and you know more about all the medical things than I do. But I don't know if forgetting about one thing that happened a few years to go means that you have to worry about what else you might have forgotten."  
  
Bones shook his head. "It's not as if worrying about it is going to help, anyway, because I wouldn't even _know_ if I had forgotten anything else."  
  
Jim knew the signs only too well. This was Bones talking himself into something until he firmly believed it, and he had to stop that right now before the idea took a firm hold in Bones' head.  
  
"And there's no way of knowing, Bones. I mean, in the end all you can do is think about all those hallmark moments, the things you're sure you'd never forget – Jo's birth, her first word, all those other things parents go absolutely crazy over. And the things about your own life that should be too important to ever forget. And if that's all there, you just have to rely on your memory, and that everything you lost after the accident has come back."  
  
Bones snorted. "So what, I randomly forgot the time I took my daughter out on a day trip, but it's not that bad because I still remember her first steps?"  
  
Jim shook his head. "No. But sometimes you just forget things. Everyone does, even without amnesia. It's normal. Well, maybe not for Spock, but it's human. And sometimes you forget things that were actually good and you'd want to remember, and then there's stuff that you'd _want_ to forget but can't. So maybe you just forgot the daytrip with Joanna, not because you got a blow to the head but because it happened over five years ago, when you were still leading a completely different life. These things just happen. Maybe at some point you'll find a drawing of hers that you don't remember, or a paper from med school that you don't remember writing, or whatever the hell else, but that doesn't mean you forgot because of the amnesia. Sometimes we just forget things."  
  
Bones ran a hand over his face with a weary sigh.  
  
"Maybe. And I wouldn't think twice about it if I didn't remember so well what it felt like to not remember _anything_. I just don't want to find out that I've lost anything else."  
  
"There'll always be things you don't remember." Jim thought his words sounded far more wise than he felt. "Or stuff you forget. Or feelings that you're not even aware of. Sometimes the brain just needs a little trigger to remember something, or for you to realize something. That's just the way it is."  
  
Bones' right eyebrow rose silently, and Jim had the sudden feeling that he was talking about more than one single forgotten memory, and wasn't even consciously aware of it. Which was another case for potentially putting his foot in his mouth, but it was too late to take the words back now.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Jim tried to shrug nonchalantly, but couldn't say if he succeeded.  
  
"That sometimes the brain needs a trigger, nothing else. So maybe you needed to hear Joanna talk about that daytrip before you remembered it, but that doesn't mean the memory wasn't there before. Just like…"  
  
The foot had already been raised, but Jim stopped himself just before he had the chance to put it into his mouth quite spectacularly.  
  
"Just like what?"  
  
Or maybe not quite _just in time_.  
  
He could talk himself out of this, Jim knew. And in the light of this whole _giving each other space_ -concept it might be better if he did, if he gave Bones a lame explanation for what he had been about to say, but fact was Jim was tired. He was tired of hiding what was going on inside of him. He was tired of not mentioning certain things in front of Bones in order to keep that careful equilibrium between them. Most of all, though, he was tired of giving space when all he wanted was to get back to being close to Bones. He had kept his distance for weeks now, and enough was enough.  
  
It was probably selfish, but Jim couldn't help himself. The words came out before he even had the chance to make up his mind about whether or not he really wanted to say them.  
  
"Just like other things sometimes need a trigger, even though they're there for quite a while already." For a moment he hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he drew a deep breath and decided to put all his cards on the table. "When we were in that hospital on Nibilia II after you were in that shuttle crash, they didn't let me in to see you right after I told them that we were married."  
  
"Jim…"  
  
"I didn't think much of it at the time," Jim continued, not leaving Bones any time or space to get a word in. "I barely noticed that the Rash'Tar was doing anything else but put his hand to my forehead, but later on Spock told me that he read my mind, and that he wouldn't have let me in to see you if he hadn't found some sort of confirmation for what I told him. I didn't think much about it, but then we were living this pretend-marriage and I realized that I _liked_ it, that I liked living with you like that, I can't help but think _that's_ what Rash'Tar saw when he read my mind. That those feelings had been there for quite a while but I only became aware of them when the situation forced us to live like that."  
  
Bones looked at Jim for a long moment, his face looking torn between the desire for Jim to shut up, and the curiosity about what Jim was going to say next.  
  
"There must have been something there Rash'Tar saw when he read my mind, and Spock told me that it's pretty damn unlikely he mistook friendship for love. But I never…not consciously, not until we were living like that and I had to pretend to be married to you and realized that I didn't have to do much pretending at all."  
  
Bones shook his head with a tired sigh. "Jim, I don't know if we should talk about this."  
  
"But I do. And I think that I'd have never admitted anything to myself, or to anybody else, if it hadn't been for the situation my lie forced us into. And I can't help but thinking that maybe it was similar for you."  
  
A frown showed on Bones' face. "What do you mean?"  
  
Jim nervously rubbed his suddenly clammy hands against his thighs.  
  
"That night we kissed…it felt real. It felt like something I wanted for a long time, and I had the feeling that it was real for you, too. Not because you thought you had to live up to any of my expectations, but because it was something you really wanted to do, too. You told me that you didn't know if what you were feeling was real or something you thought you had to feel because you couldn't remember the truth. But if it's still there…I know that doesn't sound right, but if those feelings didn't go away during those past weeks, then maybe the fact that you started feeling this way didn't have anything to do with the lies I told you. Maybe the amnesia and the pretence of being married were the trigger your mind needed to admit to what you were feeling."  
  
Again, Bones looked at Jim for a few long moments, and Jim couldn't help the worried feeling that Bones was going to blow a fuse about this whole thing any second now. Bones kept staring for a few seconds longer, brows drawn together in thought.  
  
"So basically you're saying that we've been in love with each other for a long time, but that our _brains_ didn't let us realize it?"  
  
Jim didn't know if there was indignation, ridicule, or something else entirely in the other man's voice, all he knew was that he had already said far too much to stop now or take anything back.  
  
"What I'm saying is that it was like that for me. Those feelings didn't come out of the blue just because I had to pretend to be married to you for a while. There was definitely something there before that. But you were my friend first, and that friendship wasn't something I ever wanted to risk, so I guess I never contemplated the depth of my feelings until I really had to. And I can't just stop feeling the way I do. I'm sorry, but I can't. And if you say that you were only confused about your feelings because you no longer knew what was real and what not, and that I'll never be more than a friend for you, then that's okay, but I don't want to ruin any chance we might have for more because we're both too stuck on our insecurities or past hang-ups or whatever else…"  
  
"Jim…"  
  
"I get that you need time, I really do. I agreed to give you space and I stand by that. If you think you can't ever be more than my friend then I can live with that. It won't stop how I feel, but I can learn to live with it. But there was something between us that night, and I can't believe that it was all just because you thought you had to act and feel that way."  
  
"Jim, would you listen to me for a second?"  
  
Jim drew a deep breath, realizing only now that he had been babbling without pause or without giving Bones even the chance to get a word in between. Slowly, hesitantly, he looked up at Bones and tried to gauge what the other man was thinking from the expression on his face. He couldn't quite place it, but he had definitely dug himself in too deep by now to stop anything even if Bones was going to shoot him down now once and for all.Bones shook his head slightly, the left corner of his mouth quirking up for a second.  
  
"First of all, just for the record, I'm not subscribing to your _brains_ -theory. I have the feeling that one's going to need a lot more work on it before it gets anywhere close to being published in a scientific journal."  
  
Jim couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face in an imitation of Bones' hesitant upwards tug of his lips. At least Bones wasn't yelling or – worse – laughing at him, so just maybe he hadn't taken that one step too far with what he had said.  
  
"But…I had it once before that I thought I had found a best friend who was also a lover and the only person I thought I'd ever want. And that blew up spectacularly. And I know that it's not the same, that you are not Jocelyn, but I know what you mean about past hang-ups. We both have plenty of those. The thing is that you always were my friend, Jim. Always. And when I suddenly realized that there might be more to what I was feeling, it scared me. It scared me because I didn't know if it was real, but also because I didn't want to risk what we had. With my mind the scrambled mess that it was, I needed the distance to try and sort it all out."  
  
"I get that, Bones. I just…I don't know how much more of that distance I can take. You're my friend, and we've been getting back to that, but it still feels as if something's missing because I have no idea what you're thinking anymore. I need…I don't even know what I need, Bones. Just something definite. I can deal with something definite. I can't really live well with this whole _let's wait and see-_ thing, wondering the entire time if I screwed up any chance of something more we might have had."  
  
Bones sighed deeply and rubbed his face over his hands. His fingers got tangled in his short hair and he didn't meet Jim's eyes. Instead, he kept staring at the ground as he answered.  
  
"The thing is, it still scares me. It scares me because I'm still not any clearer on anything than I was two months ago. I still don't know what to think about the way I feel, let alone what I'm supposed to do about it. What scares me even more is that those feelings are still there and won't go away, and that might mean that maybe there is something to your theory about how it's all our brains' fault."  
  
Jim didn't know if he should laugh or feel insulted. It was pretty hard to form a coherent thought about that when all he could think about was whether he had really heard what he thought he had.  
  
"I'm pretty sure you could give it the right scientific edge. You're good with the big words."  
  
Bones smiled, but didn't pick up the joke in an attempt to lead their conversation back into safer waters.  
  
"I don't know if I can do it, Jim. I…I can't get out of my skin. I don't do these things halfway. I wish I could, after Jocelyn and everything that happened, but I can't."  
  
"Nobody said you have to."  
  
Bones finally looked at him then, disbelief evident in his gaze as if Jim had just suggested something far out of the realm of the humanly possible. Honestly, Jim wouldn't believe it himself if he didn't know that this was different than anything he had ever felt before. Eventually, Bones shook his head.  
  
"And what if it doesn't work out?"  
  
"But what if it does?"  
  
There was a spark of something in Bones' eyes at those words, for just a small moment, but it gave Jim the encouragement he needed to go on.  
  
"What if it does work out? And I'm not saying I can make any guarantees, but damn it, neither of us is going to know if we're not going to try. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap. I want to give it a try, and trust me, this is all new and frightening for me, too."  
  
"Jim…"  
  
"And the only reason why you don't want to give this a try, too, I mean the only reason I can accept, is if you don't feel the same way about me that I do about you. If that's the case then I'll have to accept it, but I'm not going to let you throw this chance away because you're too scared to take this step. I'm way out of my comfort zone here, too, but I'm convinced that there's something between us that is worth it. This, and a lot more. I just need you to meet me somewhere along the way, Bones. I can't do this without you."  
  
Bones swallowed, his Adam's apple moving up and down underneath the skin of his throat. Jim forced his eyes back to meet Bones' before he got distracted.  
  
Bones didn't say anything, but he also didn't take the way out that Jim had left open for him. Encouraged by this, Jim slid closer to the other man, so close that he could feel Bones' body heat against his own skin, and close enough to see the subtle change between green, brown and all the shades in between that made up the color of Bones' eyes depending on how the light hit them.  
  
"Remember that night we kissed?" Jim asked once he had caught those captivating eyes and held them with his own. Bones huffed out a mirthless laugh, his breath a warm movement of air against Jim's skin.  
  
"Yeah, Jim. I do."  
  
"Then you also remember what you said, right?"  
  
A small frown line appeared between Bones' eyebrows, and Jim shifted yet another bit closer so that he was fully in the other man's line of vision.  
  
"You said that we could kiss when you remembered." Jim let that statement hang in the air for a few long moments, encouraged by the fact that Bones made no move to push him away. When he was sure that he had the other man's full and undivided attention, he put his final card on the table.  
  
"You remember now."  
  
Again, Bones swallowed nervously, never once breaking eye-contract.  
  
"I do."  
  
He had given Bones plenty of opportunities to back down, to withdraw again into that self-chosen distance between them, but he hadn't. And Jim was done talking. He leaned in so close that he had to cock his head slightly to the side so that their noses didn't bump against each other.  
  
"Good," he whispered, and Bones' eyelids fluttered for a second as Jim leaned in and finally pressed his lips against Bones'.  
  
Bones' lips were dry and warm against Jim's, and that single kiss felt like coming home.  
  
"Jim," Bones breathed out as Jim pulled away in search of a better angle, a way to get even closer to Bones wherever he could, and suddenly there were hands on Jim's shoulder and neck that were drawing him in again, warm lips seeking out his own, and whatever thoughts Jim might have had about angles and optimal positioning went right out the window at the feeling of this kiss.  
  
It felt _right_ to be doing this, just like the first time it had happened. And while that first kiss had been hesitant, tender and tasting faintly of bourbon, this one was different and not only because it was sober. It was a discovery, and exploration of something Jim had never thought he'd be granted.  
  
Bones kissed like he approached everything else in life – with utmost dedication and complete focus, as if nothing else mattered at that moment. The feeling of Bones' lips moving against his, of his tongue gently tracing the contours of his lips until Jim granted him entry and met it with his own, was heady and intoxicating, and he never wanted for it to end.  
  
Jim was aware that he was moving, still shifting around in search of that perfect angle that would allow him to press as close to Bones as humanly possible, but it was a distant awareness somewhere on the back of his mind. What was on the forefront was the way Bones was pressed up against him, their chests pressed flush together, the feeling of Bones' skin against his, the slight scratch of stubble against his cheek. And those hands – because Bones wasn't simply holding on, he was roaming and exploring just like Jim was, hands running over Jim's body as if trying to find something to hold on to.  
  
Jim didn't know how he was able to tear himself away from Bones' lips, even for something as essential as breathing, and he reveled in the way Bones canted his head to the side to grant better access as Jim kissed his way along his jaw and down towards his throat.  
  
"Jim…"  
  
It sounded as breathless as Jim felt, and the thought that he was making Bones sound like that was far more intoxicating than any bourbon could ever be. Jim mapped the spot that had wrung the whisper from Bones' lips, right at the juncture of jaw and neck, and he flicked out his tongue to taste the skin there. It was the first in a hopefully long list of things that made Bones gasp in pleasure, so it was well worth remembering every second of it.  
  
Broad hands roamed over his back, following the curve of his spine, and it was Jim's turn to gasp as warm fingers slid under the hem of his shirt, shifting fabric to get to the bare skin below.  
  
 _This_ was it. This…Jim never wanted for it to stop. It should feel weird, doing this with his best friend, and it should feel even weirder since all of Jim's experiences with male partners were limited to a few instances of fumbling and groping, mostly when drunk.  
  
It _should_ feel weird.  
  
But this was Bones, and maybe that was the explanation why everything felt natural and right.  
  
It felt right to tug at Bones' shirt until the other man broke their renewed kiss so that Jim could pull the fabric over his head. It felt natural to toss his own shirt off right along with it before he leaned in for another hungry kiss. Jim was effectively straddling Bones on the sofa, his knees framing Bones' strong thighs, and when Bones' hands roamed across his back to squeeze his ass through the fabric of his pants, Jim thought he had died and gone to heaven.  
  
"Bones, I…I need…"  
  
Jim didn't even know what he needed, if there were words to describe this desire for _more_ , _closer_ , _**now**_ , but Bones seemed to understand without the need for words. He pulled him in for another kiss, lips hot and moist against Jim's.  
  
"I know, darlin'," he whispered against Jim's lips, and the drawled endearment sent a sharp thrill of something he had never felt before through Jim. Bones' hands shifted up Jim's thighs, fingers moving over trembling muscle until he palmed the growing hardness of Jim's erection. "I know," he repeated, accentuated with another kiss.  
  
Jim wasn't too sure at which point he lost control of himself, but it couldn't have been too long after he felt Bones' hand against him like that for the first time, with nothing but the all-too thin barrier of the fabric of his pants between them. Something about the friction, or the knowledge that this was _Bones_ and he was right there, doing all the things Jim had barely dared to dream about, short-circuited the part of his brain that was responsible for conscious thought, making room for something primal to take over.  
  
Jim couldn't tell how they ended up lying on the couch when just a second ago he had been straddling Bones' lap rather firmly, but with all the bare skin right in front of him that just begged to be touched and explored, he didn't particularly care. He made a mental note of Bones' nipples as a second extremely sensitive spot, just in case he didn't die or fry a vital part of his brain from the sensory overload of this all and actually got a chance to do this again.  
  
Bones was writhing beneath him, arching up against Jim's touch while his own hands did their fair share of exploring, making Jim gasp between kisses as those fingers brushed over his lower ribs and then settled almost teasingly at the sensitive skin of Jim's hip, right above the waistband of his painfully tight uniform pants. Jim was lost – hopelessly, irrevocably and utterly lost to the feeling of Bones' hands on him and Bones' skin under his own fingers, to the open-mouthed kisses, to the sight, sound, and smell of Bones.  
  
Bones' hands slid down Jim's back again, fingers tracing the indentation of his spine before they slid around his hips, eliciting another gasp on their way, and settled on the button that was holding Jim's pants together over his by now achingly straining erection.  
  
"Bones," Jim gasped, nearly toppling himself face first into Bones' chest as his own hands suddenly couldn't get to opening up Bones' pants fast enough. It was clumsy at best, both of them struggling with buttons and zippers like inexperienced teenagers while Jim tried to keep himself upright and Bones struggled to keep them both from falling off the sofa. Jim barely got his own pants and briefs down to the middle of his thighs, and getting Bones' pants off became nearly impossible when he lifted his hips off the couch in what was meant to be an attempt to help along their cause, but that ended up brushing their cocks together.  
  
Bones groaned and his eyes rolled back in his head, and Jim swore that his vision blackened out and he saw stars.  
  
"Damn it, Jim," Bones mumbled, without any of his usual vigor or snarl. There was so much raw need in Bones' voice it had Jim leaning down for another hungry kiss. Bones' hand wrapped around him, and Jim moaned helplessly at the feeling of that long-fingered hand closing around him, tugging once, sharply, and running his thumb over the head.  
  
"Bones, yes. God, just…there…"  
  
Bones shut Jim up rather effectively by pulling him down for another kiss with his free hand, and unlike earlier there was nothing remotely hesitant or careful about the way he thrust his tongue into Jim's mouth and sucked on his lower lip.  
  
Jim hadn't dwelled too often on how this scene between them could play out, mostly because he had convinced himself true and well that it was never going to happen. But the few times he had indulged in that particular fantasy, it had always involved time, and languid exploration of one another without any haste. Those fantasies hadn't exactly involved an almost desperate rutting against one another on a sofa that was altogether too narrow and uncomfortable for these things, but Jim couldn't help it.  
  
It was all too much, and the sheer physical need to be as close to Bones as possible, the need for _more_ and _now_ and _never stop, please never stop_ , was too overwhelming. Jim's own hand had joined Bones' between their bodies, stroking Bones in time with the movement of Bones' fingers over his own cock and the desperate thrusting of their hips.  
  
Jim's mind was a tumble of words and sensations he couldn't ever possibly find words for, and the only clear thought he had was a stream of words somewhere in the vicinity of _Bones, please don't stop, never stop, been waiting for this for so long, please don't let go._ Bones' lips pressed against his in a surprisingly gentle and tender kiss.  
  
"I won't," he whispered, and only then did Jim realize that he had said the words out loud.  
  
Bones' grip on him tightened and Jim wanted for this to last, he really wanted to, but it was all too much. It only took a few more strokes of Bones' hand, then Jim was tumbling over the edge, spine arching and his hips thrusting against Bones as he came. He was distantly aware of Bones thrusting into his hand, and the deep guttural groan as he came and spilled all over Jim's fingers.  
  
Feeling suddenly boneless, as if all his joints and limbs had turned into rubber, Jim let himself sink onto Bones' chest, the rapid beating of the other man's heart a frantic but soothingly calming rhythm against his sternum. Settling himself between Bones' legs, one of Jim's hands almost automatically came to rest against Bones' hip while the other moved up, thumb drawing lazy circles against Bones' collarbone as Jim leaned in for a lazy, satisfied kiss.  
  
He didn't want to think right now, didn't want to contemplate where all this left them, if this meant that things between them were finally resolved or if the next setback was only lurking around the corner, waiting for its chance to strike. He simply wanted to revel in this, allow himself to bask in the afterglow of what had just happened without having to think about consequences. Right now it was just him and Bones, with neither any physical obstacles nor any of those mental walls they had built between them, and if Jim had any say in it he wanted for it to remain that way.  
  
A warm hand settled on the back of his neck, tenderly stroking through the sweat-matted hair as Jim settled his head into the crook of Bones' neck with a sigh.  
  
"You fall asleep on top of me Jim, and I swear I'm gonna push you off the sofa."  
  
Bones' voice was a low rumble in Jim's ear, a soft vibration he felt against his chest just as much as he heard it, and his lips drew up into a smile against Bones' skin. Truth was, he'd be entirely content to fall asleep like this, wrapped around Bones as tightly as possible. He didn't want to look up, much less get up – also because that would mean looking at Bones and facing the reaction to what they had just done.  
  
He was nearly sure this meant what he thought it did. Nearly. Yet _nearly_ wasn't _absolutely_ , and Jim had never felt this exposed and open before after sex. Nudity was one thing, and not something Jim felt shy about, but that wasn't the issue. Jim didn't like being vulnerable; he didn't like to bare himself like that to others. But this was Bones, and what scared Jim wasn't that he was lying here naked, it was that he was laying it all open for Bones to see. No walls, no pretence, nothing. Just Jim, with each and every of his imperfections and flaws, but willing to give everything he had to Bones.  
  
And all of a sudden Jim was horribly afraid that everything he had wasn't going to be enough.  
  
After a few minutes, the hand against the back of Jim's neck stopped its soothing movement.  
  
"Think there's any chance we could move this towards the shower and then maybe a bed before we're stuck together for good?"  
  
Slowly, Jim raised his head, still not quite sure he was ready to face whatever he was going to see reflected in Bones' face. But whatever he had thought to find, when he found Bones looking at him with one eyebrow raised and his eyes sparkling with an underlying amusement that defied his scowl, something tight in Jim's chest loosened.  
  
"Would it be so bad to be stuck with me?"  
  
If possible, the eyebrow rose even higher.  
  
"I love you, Jim, but if being stuck with you is a literal thing, I'm going to have to decline. The damn ship is gossiping enough about us without us having to call for someone to help un-stick our naked bodies."  
  
Jim leaned up on one elbow, looking down at Bones and trying to gauge what he was thinking.  
  
"We could take a shower, I guess. It's getting late, after all."  
  
Bones nodded. "Sounds good."  
  
"And then?"  
  
Bones shrugged. "Sleep, probably. As you said, it's getting late."  
  
It wasn't the answer Jim had been hoping for. Considering what they had just done, and that they were lying naked atop of each other with their bodies stuck together by sweat and semen, it was ridiculous how much courage Jim needed to draw up for his next question.  
  
"Will you stay?"  
  
Jim knew that he wasn't asking an easy thing of Bones. Chances were good that someone was going to see Bones coming out of Jim's quarters in the morning, and as Bones had said – the crew was already gossiping enough about them after the whole pretended marriage and subsequent fallout. Asking Bones to stay also meant asking him to accept that people were going to _know_ he had stayed, with all implications. And despite the fact that they had just had sex, Jim was more than a little scared that he was asking too much.  
  
Bones looked at him for a few seconds, then he smiled and pushed a strand of hair away from Jim's forehead.  
  
"Yeah, Jim. I'll stay."  
  
Then he leaned up to kiss Jim, lazily and achingly tender. And Jim decided to stop thinking so much and just let himself fall. Thinking was overrated, anyway, especially when Bones was lying naked beneath him and a hopefully mutual shower was looming somewhere not too far in the future.  
  
For once, he maybe should stop thinking too much.  
  
 _ **  
  
The End  
**_


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue**  
  
Jim was a perceptive man. He had to be, what with being a Starfleet Captain and all. He needed to know what was going on aboard his ship; he needed to lead negotiations with unknown species, and he needed to know what was going to happen before it was going to happen in order to keep all members of his crew alive and safe.  
  
So being perceptive was part of his job description.   
  
And for someone as perceptive and observant as Jim, it was pretty damn embarrassing that there were important things that completely passed by him without him noticing.  
  
Like, to take just one example, Bones moving back into his quarters.  
  
In Jim's defense, Bones moving back in was more of a gradual process than a single big event. They mostly spent their time off duty together in Jim's quarters, working together on their paperwork or simply enjoying this new level of their relationship and all the perks that came along with it. And Jim learned to appreciate how amazing it was to just spend time with Bones, even if they were not really doing much. Just being with Bones was enough.  
  
And more than once it happened during those evenings that Bones went back to his own quarters to get something small, like a PADD he was looking for, only to return with not only that item but also a stack of books or some clothes. Bones was moving back in gradually, so it was no small wonder that Jim didn't notice at first.  
  
He could have noticed something when Bones' laundry started to appear directly in the Captain's quarters without taking the detour over the CMO's, but since Bones was spending most of his free time and most nights at Jim's anyway, it was convenient, and Jim didn't question it. He just moved his own clothes to the side to make more space in the closet, and that was that.  
  
When M'Benga called Bones to Sickbay for a midnight emergency and immediately knew to reach him in Jim's quarters, it didn't come as a surprise for Jim, either. While they weren't flaunting their relationship, they didn't make a secret out of it, either. And if anybody from Bones' staff was bound to know, it was M'Benga. If M'Benga knew, Chapel probably did, too, but Jim didn't mind. He had the sneaking suspicion that the entire Bridge crew as well as most of Engineering knew, too, so it probably wasn't going to take too long before their relationship was a given fact all over the entire ship.  
  
The moment when Jim realized for the first time that Bones was making his home in Jim's quarters rather than his own was when he came home from a Bridge shift to find that the pictures of Joanna were back up on the wall in the living area. Upon seeing Jim's questioning look, Bones merely shrugged and said that he could just as well put the pictures up somewhere where he could actually see them instead of somewhere he hardly ever was.  
  
It made sense, so who was Jim to argue?  
  
Bones thought it ridiculously funny, but Jim only really realized that Bones had in fact long since moved in completely when the other man asked him to reassign M'Benga to the CMO's quarters. When Jim's startled response was nothing but a "You're sure you want to move back in?", Bones had laughed for a good five minutes before he had calmed down enough to tell Jim that his quarters had been empty for nearly four weeks now.  
  
So yeah, Jim had somehow missed the fact that Bones had moved back in with him, but that didn't mean he minded. On the contrary. And maybe it was best like this, that it had happened without any big plan or decision behind it. It simply fell into place, just like most things did for them. It never failed to astound Jim, but somehow, none of this new level to their relationship felt forced, or like something Jim had to get used to first. It was simply Bones and him together, and that was something Jim had over five years of practice in. Fitting Bones into his daily life, including the nights, was not something that took any kind of effort. Instead, it felt like a natural extension of what they had always had.  
  
Plus the sex, of course, and as far as Jim was concerned, figuring out that part of their relationship together was the most awesome and humbling experience of Jim's life. He had always loved sex, even if it had never been much more than a purely physical act. Sex with Bones, however, aside from the novelty of figuring out how to best please a body that was so similar to his own, was much more than a purely physical thing. So much more. Jim didn't want to go without it anymore again, not if he had any say in the matter.  
  
It was scary how easy those changes in their lives fell into place, and how little it all actually changed between them. They still bickered, Bones was still a grumpy bastard when something rubbed him the wrong way, and they still fought just like they always had. Yet somehow it worked, and Jim most certainly wasn't going to question something that worked so well.  
  
The second big thing that Jim nearly missed despite his good perception happened quite a few weeks after the sudden realization that Bones had in fact moved in without Jim noticing.  
  
Starfleet had sent Enterprise to map the dimensions of an asteroid field, a job for the stellar cartography department and something Spock and the science crew were particularly interested in. It wasn't the most exciting task as far as Jim was concerned, but it gave him some downtime to catch up on his paperwork, and something like a regular shift schedule that allowed for more time with Bones. And more time with Bones was all the justification Jim needed for flying around the outskirts of an asteroid fields at a quarter impulse for the next ten days.  
  
Jim had noticed that something was up over dinner already. Bones was unusually silent, almost contemplative, but Jim had learned over the past months that Bones would talk in his own time if there was something he needed to get off his chest. Pressuring him would only result in grumbling, and, if Jim pressured too much, the empty threat of a night spent on the couch. So Jim decided to wait things out and see. He still had a ton of reports to write, and Bones settled right next to him on the sofa with his own PADDs, so whatever was going through his mind most probably didn't mean that he was pissed at Jim for some reason. Best to give it time and get some work done while Bones made up his mind.  
  
A few hours later, Jim was halfway through the bi-annual crew reports when Bones started to shift beside him.  
  
"February 20th is in two days," he said, and in such an off-handed tone that it took Jim a second to realize that the other man might be expecting a reply, or some sort of reaction on his part at the very least. It took some quick mental conversion from the current stardate, but Jim wasn't really surprised to come up with exactly the same thing Bones had said.  
  
"Yeah, that's right."  
  
Bones shifted against Jim's side, and for some reason Jim got the feeling that he had been expected to say something else. Something more, whatever that was supposed to be. Bones grumbled something under his breath, muttering as he reached into the pocket of his pants that he had been nervously patting all evening long.  
  
"I should have known. Fact is, I _did_ know, that's why I had Scotty put in the date, as well. To make sure that you don't forget it again."  
  
Jim didn't see what Bones pulled out of his pocket, but he felt something warm and solid settle in his palm as Bones pressed whatever it was into his hand and closed his fingers over it. Jim barely dared to breathe as he opened his hand and looked at the object in his palm. At first his brain didn't really process what he was seeing, but in the end there was no doubt about it.  
  
It was his wedding ring, the platinum band Scotty had made from engineering parts all these months ago. Jim just stared at the silver circle of metal in his hand for a few long seconds, tracing the thin veins of impurities that ran through the metal with his eyes. The last time he had seen the ring had been when he had given it to Bones after their falling out, and ever since then he hadn't seen it again. He hadn't even known for sure that Bones had kept it after everything that had happened. Occasionally, he had caught himself touching his bare ring finger, missing the reassuring weight of the ring on his hand, but if he was completely honest with himself Jim had never expected to see the ring again.  
  
The breath caught in his throat as he realized what this meant – what he _hoped_ this meant – and he looked up at the other man from wide eyes.  
  
"Bones?"  
  
Bones shrugged, as if giving the ring to Jim was no big deal.  
  
"I talked to Spock. There's no way we can squeeze in any shore leave, but apparently it might just be possible to interrupt the mapping of this vast emptiness Starfleet sent us to on the 20th, at least for a few hours. You know, for the ceremony."  
  
Jim was fairly sure he had stopped breathing. He still wasn't sure this could possibly be real. But the ring was definitely real, a well-known and comfortable weight in his hand. Jim turned it over to read the inscription on the inside – one which he only knew in part. Bones' name was still there, but the date had been added behind the name in the same clear script, so that now the full inscription read _Leonard 02/20_. Jim clutched the ring tightly in his hand, refusing to even think about letting it go again.  
  
"Bones, what…"  
  
Warm lips pressed against his, and Jim instinctively found himself kissing Bones back without questioning. When they broke apart, Bones rested his forehead against Jim's with a smile.  
  
"I liked being married to you, too."  
  
Jim smiled, still clutching the ring tightly in his hand as he pulled Bones in for another deep kiss. He figured Bones would understand it as the _yes_ it was meant to be.  
  
  
  
 _ **The End**_


End file.
